


Heathens

by stargazerlilith



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Torture, Bungou Stray Dog Guest Appearances, Drug Abuse, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, FMA Big Bang 2017, Gang Violence, Investigations, Light BDSM, M/M, Schizophrenic character, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12232116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerlilith/pseuds/stargazerlilith
Summary: Central City has never been a quiet city. Sex and drugs—the currency of choice in the criminal underground—overflow in the streets, leaving fear and unrest in its wake. Obsidian Inferno, the most exclusive club in Central, caters to an exclusive clientele with the most notorious playboy, Roy Mustang, on its throne.  However, when a recent string of murders and drug overdoses takes the city by storm, the evidence starts to point toward the Inferno. Detective Edward Elric must go undercover to solve the case, but discovers that not everything is what it seems. As the pressure mounts, his discovery threatens to tear apart everything he loves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would really like to thank [hellosweetie17. ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17/pseuds/hellosweetie17)She has put up with me endlessly for months and has supported this so much. I couldn't have done this without her.  
> Written for the FMA Big Bang 2017!! It's been an amazing experience, and I would love to do it next year.
> 
> Cover Art By: [ unorthodoxCreativity.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unorthodoxCreativity/pseuds/unorthodoxCreativity)
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

* * *

 

Darkness had enveloped him and the world around him. There was no sound except for the inhuman moans coming from a distance. He was suspended, arched and stretched beyond his limit. His body writhed in agony as consciousness began to evade in his mind. The moans became louder, deeper, and familiar. The low drip of water filled his ears as he struggled to open his eyes.  The hot trek of tears flowed from the corner of his eyes as his body trembled in response. Gasping in pain, his eyes shot open, greeting the shadows that surrounded him. Fighting his panic, he blinked back his tears in hopes of finding some sliver of light in this hell he had found himself in.

Writhing, the jingling of chains echoed against the cement walls of his current predicament, swaying his body in a light rhythm. Taking a deep breath, he gagged, overwhelmed by the smell of rancid meat. As coughs wracked his body, he tasted the bitter metallic liquid filling his mouth, dribbling down his chin.

Screwing his eyes shut, he warred within himself, trying desperately not to become violently sick. He felt the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat as spasms overtook him violently. He cried out in pain as realization dawned on him that the inhuman moans were his own.

He didn’t understand what was happening. He was just doing his job. How did he end up strung up in a damp cellar? He remembered leaving the station for the night. He had taken several files out with him to work on when he got home. He knew something hadn’t been adding up in the recent string of murders. He wanted to take a second look. But after that— _nothing._

He felt the hot trek of tears roll down his face as he realized how utterly screwed he was. No one knew where he was. He wouldn’t be reported missing until morning. He was in over his head and he had no idea how he had gotten here.

The echo of footsteps and low muttering of voices greeted his ears. His captors were making their way towards him.  He wanted to believe that there was hope, just maybe if he could… Forcing himself, he took deep breaths, trying to muster his dignity and courage.

The rusty screech of metal grinding against metal burned his ears; his body cringed in response. He clamped down on his tongue, biting back his cry of pain as footsteps marched towards him; light filling the room with blindingly veracity. He strained to hear the newcomers, but buzzing filled his ears. He only managed to distinguish a few words— _He was a threat to something; he didn’t know what._

A harsh, heavy slap across his face forced him to open his eyes. Reeling from the force, his chains swung him back and forth as if he were the pendulum in his grandfather’s clock. He couldn’t help the howl of pain that escaped him as the watery slide of tears cascaded down his swollen cheeks.

“Ah, good, Detective! You're awake,” a low voice mocked.

Blinking back his tears, he couldn’t make out the blurry silhouette of his monstrous attacker. He could barely register the hardened grip of manicured fingers biting into his wrists, forcing his momentum to stop.

“Where am I?” he rasped, yanking against his chains, steeling himself against the pain assaulting him.

Glancing around the room, the dark shadows of knives, axes, saws, and chains loomed in his blurry eyesight. Straining his eyes, he could barely see the outline of some type of table in the middle of the room where a dark liquid oozed off onto the floor, pattering softly.  His eyes widened in fear as he distinguished scraps of flesh hanging from the edge. Another harsh, leaden slap to his face brought him back to reality, forcing his body to swing once more. The white hot flash of agony shook through his body, forcing him to whimper.

“Now, now, Detective. Not nice to ask a question and then not pay attention to the answer. That could be _deadly_ . As I was saying, where you are doesn’t matter,” his captor admonished, forcefully digging his fingers into a wound on his leg.  “What _does_ matter is you’re going to tell us everything you do know. Or I'll let my friend finish chopping you to pieces.”

He screamed, throwing up his meager stomach contents. He glanced down through the watering in his eyes, locating the source of his pain. It wasn’t just a wound; his leg was severed off.  His attacker gleefully laughed as he writhed in agony, giving another twist of his fingers. Taking gasping breaths of air, he tried to look at his assailants with his swollen eyes. But, it was no use—he could barely make out the shapes of them. His attacker was thin...sickeningly so… grinning like a maniac, enjoying his torture. His other captor was colossal in size, towering over the other man. He couldn’t make out anything else on them.

What did they want from him? He tried to think—he didn’t have any money; he wasn’t anyone special; just a detective. Why were they doing this to him?

“I don’t know ... what your talking about,” he whimpered as a knife slid across his stomach.

“Ah, but Detective... we know that ain't true. No sense in lying to us,” the man mocked, plunging a dagger into his stomach with a twist.

He howled from the pain, his mind scrambling to give them any answer that might satisfy them. What should he do? Should...he...tell them? The Detective screwed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself through the pain. He needed to think. What was the case about, again? Why did he take those files? He swallowed thickly, forcing the bile down as his body shook from the effort.

_They had been looking into a recent string of murders. The murders were gruesome...body parts hacked, victims burned...drugs…_ He sucked in a deep breathing, exhaling with a whimper of pain as realization dawned on him. _These might be the killers—the ones they had been searching everywhere for. But, the evidence pointed towards a notorious crime lord. Were these men...the King’s lackeys?_ He knew that the King was careful and these men enjoy what they were doing. _Besides, they had information on his known contacts; these men...they didn’t fit…_ He whined as the knife slid down his right arm, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. He watched in a haze as the other captor handed something to his cohort, smiling gleefully as the metal flashed within the light.

_The murders... but, something hadn’t been right with it. That's why he took the files with him....It was something to do with the murders; they didn’t ...they didn’t. He shook his head trying to gather his thoughts. He needed to think, but the pain—the pain was unbearable. He was a sworn officer of the Amestris police: his oath and his duty to the people come first—no matter the cost. No, he couldn’t let them know his suspicions.  He needed to pro—_ Pain seared through him as the man stabbed him again in his thigh, barely missing the artery.

Gritting his teeth, the Detective cried out in pain as his blood pooled from the wound dribbling down his leg. The sick laughter of his torturer stuck his fingers into the wound, twisting violently.

“Detective, I’m waiting,” his captor sing-songed, wiping his fingers across the detective’s face, smearing the blood along his jawline.

“Don't know  ...I don't know,” he babbled, clenching his teeth.

“But you do know. Why did you take the files?”

“ _I don’t know!_ ” he screamed in desperation as a resounding crack echoed in the room. He nearly vomited from the pain. He glanced down and took a deep breath, the blood dripping towards the ground from the exposed bone in his thigh.

“I don’t...Something didn’t….they didn’t make sense! They _didn’t_ and I just...please, please stop. I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go. _Please!_ ”

Laughter greeted his ears—the kind of laughter that chilled your bones. Shivering, he moaned, realizing there was no leaving here.

“Please, please, I won’t tell anyone,” he begged, gasping while tremors tore through his body.

“I believe you, Detective. You just had to go looking. And why? Look where it got you. Strung up like a stuck pig. Fitting don't you think? But alas, our association must come to an end. It's not like anyone will miss you anytime soon. _Oh_ , the woes of being a bachelor dedicated to his career. _So sorry,_ but that promotion doesn't look like it's coming,” the man taunted, grinning like a demon.

“Please, please, please... let me go,” the detective begged, gasping in pain.

“You beg so prettily, too. You would've a made a good toy,” his attacker mocked, running his hands down the Detective’s chest suggestively. “I promised my friend over here some playtime. He just enjoys carving so much. He's been looking for a new medium. I think you’ll do nicely.”

“No, please, no... I'll...I’ll do anything... _anything_ just let me... _please._ ..let me... _go,_ ” the detective pleaded, tears flowing down his swollen face.

“Of that I have no doubt. Damien, try not to make a mess,” his attacker giggled hysterically, turning away and giving a offhand wave as he walked out the door. His eyes widened as his monstrous captor stared him down as a gleeful grin spread across his face. His new attacker slowly walked towards him, lighting a match to the Detective’s horror. As he breathed in, the taste of oil flooded over his tongue and at just a kiss of the tiny fire, his flesh erupted into flames. Thrashing around from the heat scalding his body, the last thing he remembered was the inhuman wails tearing through his throat as his body burned.


	2. Chapter 2

“Jesus mother fuckin' Christ,” Detective Edward Elric cursed, shoving his arm up to his nose in an attempt to block the horrible smell; it reeked of burnt chicken with a side of maggot riddled meat. Several officers were coughing, struggling to keep the bile down in their stomachs.

He cautiously walked to where the victim lay, careful not to disturb the scene.

They had just gotten the call when two school boys, who decided it was a great idea to play in a fuckin’ abandoned warehouse, came across the body. Needless to say, those boys were going to need therapy. Detective Edward Elric pointed to his badge hanging from his neck, ducking around the crime scene tape.

He narrowed his golden gaze, surveying the scene around him:

The victim lay in the middle of the warehouse with blood pooled around him. The body was extremely disfigured and robbed of several limbs. The victim look like he had been placed in a fire pit and left to roast for hours. He had seen pigs who looked better than that poor soul.  

The investigation team was placing items into small bags. He looked around, finding the tall head of his brother photographing the scene with a grim expression. They knew when they joined law enforcement they would see gritty things, but this was something else. _Whoever did this was one sick fuck!_

“Hey Pipsqueak, stop your gawking and get your ass over here,” a high-pitched voice demanded.

 _Just great, Kateus is already here._ Kateus was the most annoying man he’d ever met. When he first met him, Edward had thought him a woman based on his attire. That had earned him a hour rant from the spiky, black-haired man. Kateus put his teeth on edge; there was just something about him. Edward just didn't know what.

Edward gritted his teeth and looked at the higher ranking detective. “Kateus, what do we have?”

“Well Pipsqueak, we have a barbeque—roasted pig,” Kateus chuckled.

Edward couldn't believe how ridiculous his ‘partner’ truly was. Rolling his eyes, Edward took a deep breath before squatting over the victim. Frowning, Edward took in the damage of the human being in front of him. He could clearly see that the victim was burned beyond recognition; the body had burned for hours. Using his gloved hand, Edward ran a finger along the victim’s arm, feeling the papery film stretching across the bone crinkle against his finger. He narrowed his eyes at the cracks along the bone, the thin blackened skin flaking off against his finger. Edward brought his finger towards his nose and inhaled. He choked back a cough from the rancid smell, but he detected something chemical underneath. His eyes widened at the greasiness pooling in between his gloved fingers. _Oil—_ the man must have been covered in it.

“Elric!  Get your damn hands off my body,” shouted a blond man walking towards him with a thunderous look.

_Just not my fuckin’ day. At all._

Russell Tringham _—_ the dashing, young prodigy in the medical field at the cusp of completing his doctorate _—_ was storming his way towards him, murder etched on his face. Sighing, Edward held up his hands in mock surrender and watched as the young medical examiner began his assessment methodically.

“Elric, you better not have contaminated the body,” Tringham growled, leaning over the victim.

“Who shoved a stick up your ass, Tringham?” Edward smirked, peeling his gloves off and depositing them into a bag. Standing up, Edward stretched his spine until it popped. “Tringham, be careful with the body. It appears to be covered in oil,” he muttered, tossing the bag of gloves at the examiner. “Might want Al to check that.” He could feel the murderous intent of Russell Tringham upon his back, and his smirk widened. _Served the fucker, right!_

“Yo, Pipsqueak! Mouse over here says Captain wants ya!”

Edward bit his lip. _Damnit, he wanted to put that piece of shit in his place._ But, the last thing he needed was a write up for mouthing off to a superior officer. He looked over to Kateus with a nod, noticing a small, black-haired man with large spectacles. His younger brother, Al, was rushing up to speak to him, holding a bag that appeared to contain small pills inside...  Must be part of forensics.  

Edward sighed and trudged his way from the crime scene, weaving around the forensics team.  His shoulder collided against Kateus as his partner walked passed him towards the medical examiner. Rubbing his shoulder, he blocked out the murmurings of Tringham and Kateus’ ridiculous voices, shaking his head. He would not give his partner a reason; he would be the bigger man. Carefully, he ducked underneath the crime scene tape, marching over to his police issued vehicle. Grasping the door handle, he yanked the door open, deep in thought. Sliding into the driver's seat, he paused before he started his black sedan, shaking his head. There was something about this case that was familiar, but he didn’t know _what_ it was.

 

* * *

 

Edward rubbed his face as he waited in the elevator. _Fuckin’ hell_. He didn’t know what the Captain wanted. They were doing everything that was humanly possible to solve this case. It was not his fault that the death toll was mounting—the evidence just wasn’t there. He sighed as the elevator doors finally opened on the seventh floor.  Straightening his shoulders and back, he ignored the deep ache that was settling there and walked in between desks, nodding at his fellow officers.  

“Yo, Elric, the fuck did you do? Captain’s being a right bitch!” Officer Wendy Davis exclaimed, clasping her hand over Edward’s shoulder.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know, Davis? I just got the damn message,” Edward barked, shrugging the hand off of his shoulder.

“Elric! Get your ass in here!” the voice of the Captain barked from the cracked opening of her door.

Edward ignored the whistles and the hum of the death march from his fellow officers as he made his way to the Captain’s office. He looked up to the ceiling before taking a steadying breath. _Just what the fuck is going on?_ Placing a hand against the door, Edward pushed his way inside before shutting it behind him.

Edward took a quick glance around the room. Bookshelves lined the back wall with various titles on criminal justice. A computer buzzed from its spot on the desk; it was surrounded by files, but he couldn’t make out the contents. Off to the side of the desk—a white board was placed displaying the current investigation. His Captain was perched on the leather couch stuffed in a corner, scowling at him.

By all appearances, Captain Himo seemed like she belonged in a pageant or some shit. She was voluptuously curvy with wavy black hair. Somehow, she made the uniform looking fuckin’ indecent. However, it was her mauve eyes that unnerved him: they were cold and calculating. He would never drop his guard around her. No, he was pretty certain that she wouldn’t hesitate to stab him in the back if it furthered her own goals.

“Captain,” Edward saluted, “you wanted to see me?”

“Detective Elric, our youngest prodigy,” Captain Himo purred, looking down at her long, manicured nails. Those nails looked deadly enough on their own.  “We have a problem. There have been a string of murders with what appears to be a connection to the notorious Obsidian Inferno in downtown Central.”

“Yes, Captain. We've noticed drugs at the crime scene that we can link to known affiliates, but nothing to connect everything together,” Edward acknowledged, making sure to keep his voice neutral as Himo stood up and advanced towards him.

“Yes, Elric. I'm quite aware of the progress, or rather lack thereof. We are getting nowhere, so I have conferred with Commander Bradley and we’ve come to an agreement on what should be done.”

Edward did not like where this was going. He carefully tracked her movements as she moved towards the back wall, tapping a finger on the board. "We are going to shut Mustang and his little club down,” Captain Himo seethed, making her way back to her desk. He watched her pull several files from the pile, tossing them at him.

His arm automatically sprung out to catch them, causing the Captain to raise her perfectly shaped eyebrow. Schooling his features, he glanced down at the files, shuffling through them quickly. He did not hear her move until he felt her breath against his ear.

“You’re an attractive young man, Detective Elric. Yes— _very_ attractive. I would hate to see something happen to such a fine specimen as yourself,” she purred, moving her hand down his back in a sweeping motion. Edward gritted his teeth, stepping away from his Captain, giving her a cold, assessing look.

“What do you want, Captain?”

“So glad you asked,” Himo smirked. “Commander Bradley and I have decided that you will go undercover at Obsidian Inferno. You’re to get any information you can by any means necessary. I expect you to report in, once a week, to Detective Kateus.”

“Kateus? Why the _fuck_ should I report to him?”

Captain Himo held up her hand and clucked her tongue. “Language, Detective Elric. Wouldn’t want a write up for disobeying an order, now would we?”

“No, ma’am,” he bit out, straightening his spine and clenching his fingers into a ball.  “Is that all, Captain?”

“Yes, you're dismissed, _Detective.”_

Edward saluted, turning on his heel and grasping the door handle.

“Oh and _Detective,_ I expect swift results. I want these murders to end. I’d hate to see something happen to someone with so much _promise_ ,” Captain Himo announced, her voice low with a sultry innuendo. Edward gave a curt nod, willing himself not to slam the office door as he stalked over to his desk, clutching the files in a death grip. He frowned as he noticed Detective Richard Williams leaning against his desk. _Just fuckin’ great!  Why couldn't the fucker take a hint?_

“Elric, looking as _delicious_ as ever. Let me take you out?” Richard purred, letting his eyes rake over Edward’s form, licking his lips and enjoying the way Edward’s form-fitting pants clung to his legs.

Edward rolled his eyes and slammed the files down onto his desk. Ignoring Richard, he shrugged his jacket off, placing it on the back of his chair. Shoving his sleeves up to his elbows, he turned to glare at the man. _Bastard, really couldn’t take a damn hint._

“Not if you were the last guy on this goddamn planet, Williams.  Now, stop being such a dick and get the _fuck_ _off_ my desk,” Edward growled, shoving Richard’s shoulder.

“No need to get violent. I could really help you loosen some of that tension, Elric,” Richard teased, rubbing his shoulder.

“Fuck off, Williams! I got shit to do,” Edward hissed, unlocking his drawers and shoving the files into it before locking it again.

“You wound me, Elric. But alas, maybe another day,” Richard lamented, holding his hands up in surrender before sauntering away.

Edward shook his head and made his way to the elevator. He was sure Al and his team would be back by now. He dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out his golden pocket watch. Flipping it open, he noted that it was nearly six o’clock at night. Al might have something for him at this point.  

Edward wanted to slap himself. He was not having a good day. Edward growled as the elevator doors opened to reveal Kateus, of _all_ people, leaning against the wall of the elevator. Just not his day.

“Yo, Pipsqueak what did the Captain want you for?”

“Ask yourself, you nosey prick,” Edward spat, barreling past him towards the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Down at the bottom of the building stood Detective Edward Elric in the nest of the forensic team’s labs. This part of the building was his favorite. Some days he wished he had went into forensics where all the science happened. But then again, he wouldn’t get to punch people. He really did love to fuckin' punch a perp when he could.

Edward stalked through the halls, peeking his head into various labs as he looked for his brother.  After the fifth room, he finally found him hunched over a microscope with the man from earlier in the day.

“Hey, Al, what do you have for me?” Edward called, walking into the room with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh brother! You won’t believe what Kain and Russell’ve found!” his younger brother exclaimed, bustling over to him.

Edward arched an eyebrow and looked up to his brother. Man, he hated the fact that his younger brother was a good head taller than him. “Who?”

“Oh! I forgot you haven’t met, yet. This is Kain Fuery, our new specialist. He just transferred from East City,” Al gushed, pushing his golden fringe out of his eyes.

Edward looked over to the man in question: he looked to be about the same height as himself with large spectacles and slightly spiky black hair. His demeanor screamed pushover with his slight hand wave and hunched shoulders—another pet for Al.

“Nice to met you, Fuery. What did you find?” Edward softly acknowledged, moving next to the man and peering into the microscope.

“No, not telling you, yet. We need to speak to Russ and then I’ll let you know. But first, what do you see?”

“From my standpoint, it appears to be powdered ibuprofen. What did the chemical analysis report find?” Edward murmured, turning the microscope piece to see a larger view.

“That’s exactly what the report said about half of the drugs found on site,” Al beamed proudly, watching Fuery’s widened eyes. He mouthed ‘told you’ to the newest team member, smirking. Edward looked up with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell?”

Al continued to nod his head and grabbed his brother by the wrist, not at all bothered by the coldness from the seemingly flesh hand. Edward stumbled a bit as he was yanked out the door towards the morgue with a confused Fuery in tow.

“Al, do we have to see that asshole? Can’t you just  tell me?” Edward whined, trying to wiggle out of his brother’s death grip.

Edward sighed as the new kid kept looking back and forth silently with a raised eyebrow. It wasn’t the kids fault that didn’t understand why he didn’t want to see _that_ medical examiner.

“Brother, you're being ridiculous. Just because you two used to—” Al cut himself off and tightened his grip around his brother, tugging Edward inside the morgue.

“Shut up, Al!  No one needs to know my fuckin' business,” Edward hissed, yanking his arm from his brother, giving him a death glare.

Al just rolled his eyes and motioned towards the table where Russell was gently cutting into the burnt form of the victim.

“Russel, explain to Ed what you found,” Al said, dragging Edward up to the table. Sulking, Edward stepped beside Russell. Ignoring the closeness, Edward peered down at the victim.

“The victim is male, most likely mid-twenties to early thirties. Like you noted earlier today, the body was covered in oil. Analysis confirmed it. I concluded that the oil was the accelerant used to burn the him. The victim was stabbed in various areas associated with torture, as can be seen in his arms and chest. His legs were crudely hacked off with what appears to be a type of saw based on the jagged lines,” Russell calmly announced, pointing to the various places as he spoke. Russell turned towards him with narrowed eyes, his mouth set in grim line. “My estimation is that he was alive while they hacked his body and burned him. I’ve already sent his teeth for dental identification.”

Edward watched as Russell peeled his bloody gloves off slowly before tossing them into a bin. Clearing his throat, Edward folded his arms against his chest before speaking. “There’s more. Stop playing around, Tringham.”

“Aren’t you playing sharp today, Ed-ward? The torturer seems to have used the burning as a cover. After all, most perpetrators try to cover up their crimes,” the examiner quipped, walking towards his computer sitting in the corner of the room.

Edward watched as the medical examiner leaned down, ignoring his audience as he typed into his computer. Feeling the tension as the silence dragged on, Edward huffed, glaring at the examiner as he straightened up.

“My own expertise says otherwise. The torture and burning of this victim was done maliciously, but purposefully. It's not a cover up. I'll let you figure out the rest, _Detective_ ,” Tringham concluded boastfully, a smile tugging at his lips.  

The sound of vomiting could be heard outside the hall as Fuery stuck his head in a trash can during the explanation. Edward glanced at his brother and nodded. Things were getting complicated, but this bastard was top priority.

“Thank you, Tringham. Let me know when you get an ID,” Edward professionally acquiesced with a small nod to the man.

“Whatever,” Tringham grumbled before resuming his work, clearly dismissing them. Taking that as their cue, the duo walked out the door of the morgue, finding Fuery bent over an over-sized trash can.

“You ok, kid?” Edward questioned while Al patted Fuery’s back. Fuery gave them the thumbs up as he continued to empty his lunch into the bin. Edward shrugged and herded his brother towards his lab. Once inside, Edward closed the door and rounded on his brother. “What else did ya find, Al?”

“We found more of that new heroin-ecstasy hybrid drug. It was encased in bags marked with a flame crest. However, the powdered ibuprofen just doesn’t fit the profile. After you left, Fuery helped close out the scene. He found a old looking security camera of the warehouse. It’s severely outdated and looked broken. But, it _did_ manage to pick up some audio. Fuery thinks he can clean it up. The man is a genius with tech.” Al explained, running his fingers through his hair. Edward looked at his brother and wondered what it all meant.  

“That’s something. Damnit, this case is getting complicated. One thing’s for sure. We got to catch these motherfuckers. Man, I need a drink. Wanna maybe hit the club tonight?”

Narrowing his eyes, Al looked at his older brother, who was bouncing from one foot to another.  

“Sure, let me just get things shut down for the night,” Al replied, keeping his voice neutral. “I’ll see you at home, brother.”

“Ya, sure, Al. Hey, you might wanna keep the captain away from your new pet—she’ll eat him alive,” Edward chirped, backpedaling out the door, quickly leaving Al to shake his head at his brother’s antics.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Warning~ The rest of the story will contain sexual content and graphic violence. From this point forward, there will be no more warnings.

* * *

 

 

Edward glared back at the bouncer as he heard his brother sigh heavily. The sigh, he knew was the _‘I can’t believe you brother_ ’ sigh, which meant that Alphonse was irritated with him. It wasn’t his fault that the bouncer was a dick. He glanced up as his brother’s form looming over him. _Not fuckin' right; little brothers should be shorter than their obviously older, more mature brothers._  

Focusing back on the problem at hand, Edward sighed and moved out of the way for his brother to deal with the bouncer. _Why the hell was this hard to get into this shit hole?_

Edward watched as his brother murmured a few words to the bouncer that apparently made him blush. Edward rolled his eyes as his brother stroked the bouncer’s hand and discreetly place a bill into the closed fist in a very suggestive manner. _Just where the hell did his baby brother learn this shit?_ Edward shook his head—he didn’t want to know.  As far as he was concerned, his baby brother was a brilliant saint with complete purity. Yes, that’s what he chose to believe. Everyone else could just bite him.

The bouncer quickly wrote something down and stuffed into his brother’s shirt—a mostly unbuttoned navy blue one—leering over Al’s body, particularly his tight black pants. He still couldn’t believe that his baby brother left the house in that. The boy just had no taste. Edward quietly counted to five in his head, ignoring his brother’s shit-eating grin. Once the idiotic bouncer opened the rope, Ed shoved past him with a huff.

“Just what the fuck did you say, Al?”

“Now, brother, I got us in, didn’t I?” Al sweetly cooed.  “Although, I’m curious why you wanted to go this particular club. And you’re going to tell me.” Edward paused and stared at his brother with slightly widened eyes. Al had his ‘ _don’t you fuckin' dare lie to me_ ’ face on, and Ed knew he was fucked.

“Not here, Al. I’ll explain later. Let’s just go find the guys,” Edward sighed, guiding his brother further into the club.

Edward whistled as they went through the ornate glass doors leading into the central hub of the club. Glittering black walls with swirling marble floors of red and orange hues greeted their eyes. They had stepped into Satan's lair.

Al was pointing over to a booth near the dance floor, gesturing for him to follow. Clenching his fist, Edward stomped through the masses, who parted for Al like he was Moses, as he caught up to his brother.  Inside the booth, Sheska, Fletcher (the only decent fucking Tringham), and Fuery sat clustered together deep in conversation. Edward glanced around, his shoulders tense when a calming hand clasped him on his shoulder.

“I didn’t invite him, Ed. Don’t panic,” Al whispered into his ear. Nodding, Edward took a deep breath. He didn’t want to deal with his ex tonight. The way things had ended...with a sigh, Edward scooted into the white pristine booth, careful not to elbow Sheska.

“Hey, Sheska,” Edward greeted, gesturing to Al to get him a rum and coke.  Nodding, Alphonse headed towards the bar at a leisurely pace. Edward sighed at his brother’s obvious swagger as ‘fans’ began to follow his baby brother—he didn’t want to know.  Fuery looked between the two brothers in slight confusion as Edward leaned back.

“What was that?” the spectacle man questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, Ed and Al have their own code; you get use to it,” Sheska replied in a matter of fact tone.

Fletcher muffled a giggle and look at his newest co-worker.

“Don’t worry about it, Kain.  Are you ok? You look uncomfortable,” Fletcher asked with mild concern.

“Y..ye..yes, just a bit nervous. You know, new guy,” Kain stammered, shrugging his shoulders.

Almost immediately, Sheska started to ramble about a book she’d read, _Workplace Communications_ or some shit like that.  Edward smiled, gazing over at Fletcher, who was slightly taller than him with shaggy blond hair and the same damn grey eyes as his bastard brother; however, he had a warmer personality. Fletcher patted Kain on the back sympathetically as Sheska quoted the book word for word in an attempt to console the poor man. Eventually, Kain would become another victim of Al and Fletcher’s pranks. Edward tried not to shudder at the thought of what Fletcher and Al would get up to—the two of them were fuckin’ scary as hell. There was no telling of what they’d do to Kain. He watched Sheska adjust her glasses, blushing prettily before rubbing her hand at the back of her brunette head in nervousness. “Oh no, I’m sorry! I got carried away again. You probably don’t want to hear…” Sheska trailed off, adjusting her glasses.

“It’s okay really, it was actually very soothing,” Kain reassured her, red dusting his cheeks.

“Oh,” Sheska smiled, wringing her hands in nervousness.

Edward shifted uncomfortably at their adorable display and thanked the gods when Al decided to grace them with his presence again. Al lifted his blond eyebrow at Edward as he handed the rum and coke over. Grinning, Al made of a show of placing numerous slips of paper into his pocket— to his older brother’s horror.

“What’s the matter, brother?” Al chuckled, sliding in next to him.

“Who the fuc—nope I don’t wanna know,” Edward asserted, shaking his head in denial. “Al, you don’t even know who these people are! What if they are freaking serial killers?”

 _“_ Then you’ll just have to _avenge_ me, brother,” Al beamed, sipping his rum and coke.

Edward stared hard at his brother, who was smiling innocently at him, placing his drink on the table. “I'm gonna head to dance floor. Al, try not to get murdered,” Edward murmured, scrambling out of the other side of the booth.

“Brother! Wait! We’ll go with you!”

Ignoring his brother’s pleas, Edward waded into the throng of bodies. He didn’t really care who his brother fucked—that was his business. It was just disturbing to see.  Al was a legal adult, but sometimes it was difficult to change his mindset—even after all these years. He needed to focus on his job. That’s what he came to do, not babysit his playboy brother. Sighing, Edward let himself drown in the crowd and the music.

 

* * *

 

Roy Mustang leaned back against the black leather couch, spreading his arm against the length while idly playing with a lighter.  He listened as Hawkeye gave him an assessment of the newest developments. He contained his sigh and shifted his legs to where one foot rested on his knee.

“Sir, the castle is setting up. There seems to be some stirrings within its walls; they might get careless,” Hawkeye said, arching her brow sharply at the snap of the silver lighter.  

Mustang twirled the lighter in his palm, nodding over to his bouncer, Heymans Breda.

The heavy set man returned the nod, his expression grim as he disappeared from view. Hawkeye titled her head to the side, searching Mustang’s face before giving it a shake.

“Business before pleasure, sir,” she advised, marching to stand behind him with military ease.  

“Sometimes, Hawkeye, we need a little pleasure before business,” Mustang said, giving her his best puppy dog look. Rolling her eyes, Hawkeye placed one hand on the butt of her revolver, lips quirking with satisfaction at Roy's sharp intake of air.

Within minutes, Breda began parading numerous men and women towards the VIP sections. With a nod, Breda ushered them to specific areas to ‘entertain’ the prestigious clientele. His left hand man, Havoc, whose cigarette was hanging carelessly out of his mouth, grinned goofily at the scantily clad women.  Mustang cradled his head into his hand, watching the display in front of him. Clearing his throat, he raised an elegant eyebrow at the blond man.

“Sorry Boss…” Havoc mumbled around the cigarette, scratching the back side of his head.

Mustang chuckled, gesturing at Breda with single snap of his gloved fingers.Quickly marching over, Breda ushered in two women dressed in revealing, glittery black lingerie towards him. With a slight nod, Breda began placing the women around him on his throne. Breda helped the blonde one straddle him, as he whispered sweet nothing's into her ear, causing her to giggle. Ignoring his bouncer’s eyeroll, Roy licked at the blonde's ear as the weight of the red haired girl settled against his side.  He tilted his head to the side as Hawkeye leaned over his shoulder, whispering into his ear: “We have him, sir.”

Nodding, Mustang nipped at the blonde's ears, earning a delighted shriek as she pressed closer to him. He petted her curls as Breda pushed an older gentlemen towards him.

Mustang watched as the man leered over the women upon his throne. Smirking, he leaned forwards, capturing the mouth of the blonde beauty on his lap, moaning as he explored her mouth. Nuzzling her head to the side, Mustang placed open mouth kisses along the column of her throat, suckling and nipping lightly while the redhead began to run her fingers along his arms and thighs in lingering motions. Whimpering, the blonde beauty leaned backwards, giving him ample access. Mustang ignored the panting coming from across the room, blowing hotly on the swell of her expose breast, licking his way up to her neck. The blonde gasped, arching upwards, canting her hips to grind against him.  Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she began to rub herself against him, moaning her approval as the redhead licked at his neck. Bucking his hips, Mustang continued his trek towards her jawline, savoring her taste. A deep groan forced him to pause in his administrations towards the lovely blonde. Scowling, Mustang drew the blonde against him, leaning back on his throne.  

“Did you enjoy the show, Mr. Yoki?” Mustang inquired, his tone taking a dangerous edge as he locked eyes with the sorry excuse of a man.

“Such beautiful women, Mr. Mustang. One would not—” Yoki panted, shifting uncomfortably.

Frowning, Mustang gave the pest before him a hard, calculating look, flipping his lighter open. The whine that escaped the coward was borderline inhuman as the man stumbled backwards, trying to scurry away. He didn’t get far as his bouncers stepped forwards, halting the man’s progression.

“Now, Mr. Yoki. We all know that _you_ will never sample their exquisite taste. They are much too refined for the likes of you. Do you know why I have the pleasure of your company tonight?” Roy mocked, lowering his voice an octave.

“Now...Now.. Mr. Mustang. I know that I said I wouldn’t do it anymore—but, I got a family to feed,” Mr. Yoki stammered, wringing his hands together.

Glaring, Mustang turned his head towards his most trusted. His Hawk gracefully bent down near the shell of his ear, whispering in tones too low to distinguish, giving him the information he needed. Turning his attention back to Mr. Yoki, he gazed at the man as if he could see his very soul. Mr. Yoki began to cower as Roy took in his form: he was a small, timid man with mousy brown hair and bucked teeth in the front, he looked like a rat—a perfect description for the traitor.

“Mr. Yoki, you said a family? The wife who left you three years ago? The son who wants nothing to do with your drug addicted self? Now...Now, Mr.Yoki, one must not tell lies. We are _friends_ , are we not? Though I suppose you did steal from me, even after I allowed you a place in my kingdom."

Roy clicked his lighter shut, spinning it in his leather-gloved hand. He looked over to Havoc and Breda, giving them a nod. He watched the blond man and his heavy set bouncer advance on Mr. Yoki, grasping his arms, forcing the man to kneel.

Mr. Yoki bowed his head, sobbing his regret. Roy gently removed the woman from his lap before standing up. Stalking over to the Mr. Yoki, his resolve hardened. He would not show this rat any mercy. The punishment had to fit the crime—a lesson needed to be taught.

Roy slowly reached down, pulling his flame-hilted dagger from his black boots, keeping his gaze locked on Mr. Yoki. In one fluid motion, he slashed the traitor across the face. Ruthlessly, he watched the man sob harder as the blood welled, trickling down his face. The blubbering pleas of the rat increasing in volume as fear overtook him.

Roy nodded to his two men, letting them wrangle Mr. Yoki into position.  They carried the sobbing man, forcing the man forwards as he desperately fought against them. Grasping Yoki’s arm painfully, Havoc swiped his arm over a nearby table, shattering the glasses to the floor; effectively silencing the lounge area as all eyes turned towards them. No one dared breathe as Mustang’s men flung the man against the table, holding his arms by brute force.

Roy slowly marched his way to the table, letting his footsteps echo against the marbled floor. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. He smirked. _It’s time to teach a lesson to a rat._

Twirling his flamed dagger in his hand, he loomed over Mr. Yoki’s face; he let his smirk sharpen as he flicked his lighter open.  Mr. Yoki’s eyes widened in fear as Mustang began to his heat up the dagger against the flame. Titling his head, Mustang watched as Hawkeye walked towards the man with grim determination. He raised an eyebrow as she stuffed a silk cloth inside Mr. Yoki’s mouth as he struggled to break free. Roy turned his blade sideways as she stood above the table, her hand at the ready as he loomed over Mr. Yoki. No one dared to utter a sound as the club owner carefully began to carve into the traitor’s cheek with the heated blade of his dagger. Muffled screams pierced the air after each careful swipe of the hot metal.

 

* * *

 

Music thrummed around Edward, drowning out all other noise. He could feel the press of bodies flowing to the rhythm of music, jostling against him.  He let his mind wander as he surveyed the room. The ornate black walls shimmered with silver accents; tables and booths clustered sparingly around the walls giving the illusion of flames; a twin staircase towards the back spiraled to the left and right. He gave it a thoughtful look and knew his target would be found up those stairs.

Edward knew what he was doing was dangerous and Al was going to be furious.   _But, fuck it. Orders were orders. He’ll have to get over it. It isn’t my fault the Captain’s breathing down my neck demanding fuckin' results._

He felt someone brush up against him, placing a lingering hand on his hip to bring him closer. He let the person drag him against them, feeling the heat of the stranger as their breath whistled in his ear. He rotated his hips, finding the beat without a pause, grinding himself against them.  He kept his eyes on the staircase, waiting to see who was let in and out. He noticed that several beautiful men and some women were brought by the bouncers before being escorted back. Apparently, the club owner’s reputation was not a mere fabrication. He had read the file on the so-called King of the Underworld; he was known for his playboy ways… Edward grinned. He might actually have a way in...

 

* * *

 

Roy nodded to Hawkeye as she handed him a towel. He wiped his dagger in slow motions as Havoc and Breda carried Mr. Yoki out the back. He had no doubt that the rat had learned his lesson. He couldn't have anyone fucking up his carefully laid hand. Things were finally in place and soon the castle would crumble if he played it right.

Sauntering over to the lovely beauties occupying his couch, Roy kissed each one, nipping lightly at their mouths, leaving them panting.

“My lovelies, pardon the show, I’m sure you understand,” he murmured, lightly caressing their faces. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a playmate in a bit. Wouldn’t want to disappoint Madam Christmas, now would we?”

“You don’t want to play with us?” the blonde questioned, raking her fingers down his stomach.

Grasping her hand in one swift move, Mustang leaned down, kissing the back of it with half-lidded eyes. “My apologizes ladies, maybe another time.”

He ignored their disappointed whines as he turned away, walking over to the railing. Sighing, he leaned his back against it, folding his arms. “Hawkeye, report.”

“Nothing to report, Sir. There is movement within the castle. Ruffled feathers. Jesters are in place, Sir,” Hawkeye stated, seemingly unfazed.

He frowned, turning towards Havoc and Breda as they made their way back, pushing each other in jest. He pinched his lips together in disapproval, clearing his throat. Stopping in their tracks, they looked at each other sheepishly. Recovering, they squared their shoulders and faced towards their boss, schooling their expressions.

“Yo Boss, got rid of him where ya said to,” Havoc drawled, sucking on his cigarette.

“Anything else you need, Chief?” Breda questioned, letting his gaze stray to the beauties.

“Make contact with the Jesters by 1400.  But for now...go and enjoy,” Roy ordered, waving them off towards the couch.

He barely registered the ‘yes, Sir’ over the shrieks and giggles. Running his fingers through his dark locks, he turned around to survey his domain. Gazing down into the throng of clubbers, he leaned his arms against the silver railing; bowing his head, he let his thoughts wander. Deep in thought, he barely noticed Hawkeye move next to him quietly. He refused to acknowledge her, knowing her brown eyes would be filled with concern. Better to let him get his thoughts in order before acknowledging his blonde right hand-man, er woman.

Roy let his eyes linger over the crowds, noting the exchanges happening down below. He knew exactly what took place within his club. Which was why he had to make an example of Mr. Yoki.  He listened as the beat changed to a sultry tone, the writhing bodies flowing with it. He could hear the moans behind him and within his booths; everyone should be rewarded sometime. It would’ve been a shame to waste what the Madam had to offer.

Roy sighed, turning around when a flash of red caught his attention: down in the throng of bodies was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. The man had a golden halo of hair pulled into a tight ponytail that he would just love to twist in his hand and pull. Roy could make out a well defined body clad in red v-necked shirt and black pants that could have been painted on. Yes, things were about to get interesting and maybe—the right kind of heated.


	4. Chapter 4

Edward wanted to slam his head against his desk. It had already been a fuckin' week since his foray into Obsidian Inferno. He had effectively dodged Al’s questions by putting him off, but he knew his excuses were getting weak. He grabbed the file again and started to read it, already knowing what it would say: victim; male; found in alley; H-bomb drugs found near the vicinity; cuts and burns—same MO, minus the powder ibuprofen.

Edward tossed the file down again on the stack and sighed. He glanced over to the whiteboard towards his left. Each victim, each murder, each drug bust, every single damn case was written on that board against the length of the wall. They had no new intel and he knew the Captain was waiting for him to submerge himself undercover. He already had Falman, their resident go-to computer guy, create him a full identity: Edward Hohenheim; college student in the physics department; overall good boy who lives in a loft on the east side of the city.

He already knew what he had to do. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it. It was clear why Himo wanted him to do this; he had done his own damn research. His ‘Captain’ wasn’t that slick; it had nothing to do with his arrest record. His case solve rate didn’t even play a factor. No, it was because of one simple fact—Roy Mustang, fuckin' Kingpin of the damn Underworld, Central City’s most notorious playboy had a penchant for blondes regardless of sex. Now he’d have to play the part of some brainless trophy. Fuck him! Damn, he was so screwed. But, he had a job to do and orders were orders. Al was gonna be so pissed, especially if he found out the truth of why he was chosen for this hellish assignment. He would have to come up with something to tell him. Groaning, Edward leaned his arms on his desk, resting his head in frustration.

“Yo, Pipsqueak, what's your shrimpy ass doing here?” Kateus jeered, pulling on his braid.

“Fuck off, Kateus; I know what I’m doing. And leave my goddamn hair alone, you fuckin' weird ass bastard,” Edward growled, knocking his chair backwards to hit Kateus in the leg.

Kateus staggered from the force of the chair hitting him and laughed, wiping at his eyes.

“Awww, Baby Elric bitten off more than he can chew? Did I hit a nerve, Pipsqueak?” Kateus chortled, clutching his stomach.

“Shut the hell up, Kateus! It’s none of your damn business!”

“Pipsqueak, don’t be a pussy. It's just one little ole assignment.”

“Fuck off Kateus, you piece of shit,” Edward bellowed, slamming the files into his desk drawer. He heard someone cough and clear their throat, forcing him to look up. Kain stood beside his desk fidgeting nervously. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Detective Elric, you’re needed in the labs,” Kain muttered, glancing between the two men. Out of the corner of Edward’s eye, Kain shifted uneasily as the minutes ticked by, stretching the tension.

“Oh, look—it’s Mr. Mousey. Ah, you could have fun with him, Elric. Just like you did with—” Kateus taunted, leaning over the Detective's desk.

“Fuck off!” Edward hissed, standing up and marching towards the elevators with Kain in tow. He quickly pressed the button, fidgeting.

“Detective Elric, I—”

“Ed, call me Ed, Kain.”

“Ed, what was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Kateus’ just a motherfucker who enjoys toyin' with people,” Edward grumbled, walking in the elevator as it dinged open. “C’mon. We have work to do. What’s Al want?”

“He said not to tell you until I brought you in,” Kain answered, shifting from foot to foot.

Edward sighed, looking up to the ceiling with a “Why the hell is this my life?” look. That right there told him part of what Al wanted to see him about.

The elevator finally stopped; he’d never been in such a slow elevator. He knew the real cause: he was dreading being cornered by his baby brother. Al could be downright terrifying at times.  The doors took an agonizing five minutes to open (okay, maybe thirty seconds) and of course his baby brother was waiting right outside the doors with a grim expression. _Just shit._

“Hey, Al,” Edward muttered weakly, giving a wave.

“Don’t you 'Hey, Al' me, Edward Elric. My chocolate chip office now,” Al muttered darkly, pointing his finger towards the office on the right.

Edward gulped and death marched his way to his brother’s office. Sometimes Al was the fuckin' scariest person he knew, especially when he started swearing with ice cream flavors.

Al slammed the door behind them with a resounding bang and rounded on him instantly.

“Why the mint chocolate chip am I just hearing about you going undercover, Mr. Edward Hohenheim, from strawberry cheesecake Falman?” Al shouted, waving his hands empathically.

Edward's eyes widened and he cursed in about seven different languages.

“Sorry, Al. It's just that orders are orders. And I knew you’d be worried—”

“Worried? _Worried_ ? Worried doesn’t even strawberry swirling cover it. Why in the rocky road is the Captain sending you to _that_ place? You could end up dead!” Al shrieked, pacing around the office.

“Al, I'll be careful. But my ass is on the line. We’re at a dead end and I’m the only one perfect for the job,” Edward said, softly placing his hand on his brother’s back, watching him take a deep breath.

“We knew our jobs would be dangerous, Al. I can take care of myself. You know that. Izumi made sure that we both could.”

Edward swallowed thickly as his brother drew in a breath, glaring at him.

‘“You're right, but I don’t fudging like it, Ed. Let's go see Fletcher. He has something to show you,” Al said, breathing deeply, shrugging his brother off of him before heading out his office door in a huff.

 _Just fuck! I knew Al’d be pissed, but, ain’t this a bit extreme? I’ll have to make it up to him somehow when this case is over_. Edward jogged after his brother, heading towards Fletcher Tringham’s labs.

 

* * *

 

It was eerily dark, almost no sound could be heard except for the dripping of water. The room was small, almost closet like. In the far corner, a rotund man lay in the fetal position. He didn’t know what was going on. He just wanted to get his fix. The fat, small man had beckoned him over saying he had something special. How could he have been so stupid?

He heard the creak of the door open, its hinges screaming in protest. He knew something terrible was about to happen. He felt his spine stiffen as the footsteps came closer. Maybe, maybe there was something, anything that he could…

He screamed as the first plunge of the knife hit him in his shoulder. The man started blubbering, pleading for it to stop as the knife stabbed into his body over and over again.

“This isn’t personal; just business. But, don’t you look pretty in red?” a soft tenor gleefully sang, flipping his body over.

The man stared at his attacker as he felt his body weaken from blood loss.  His attacker was just a kid—couldn’t be more than seventeen. The boy looked at him with a wolfish grin, running a bloody hand through his black locks. The last thing the man saw were cold grey eyes and the flash of a lighter.

 

* * *

 

Edward leaned against the back wall of Fletcher’s lab. He watched as Fletcher and Al set various samples out from his vantage point. He would reckon they were the drugs from the crime scenes.

“Okay, Al. What’d y’all find?” Edward asked, coming towards the table to get a closer look.

Al rolled his eyes, gesturing towards the table. “Ed, tell us what you do know about the murders.”

“Drugs at each scene, victims vary in age and sex, two unidentified, wounds vary from cuts to a few earlier cases showing gunshots, all victims were burned. Consistent with Mustang’s known use of fire. All drugs have the crest of the club and most were known associates of the Underworld. However, no direct connection can be made,” Edward recited, picking up the samples to scrutinize them.

“What about the recent case, Ed?” Fletcher quietly questioned, pulling his notes from a file.

“Unknown male, approximately in his early thirties or late twenties, burned alive, missing limbs most likely severed during torture, inconsistency of the drugs…”

“Correct, Ed. But, you forgot to add no known drugs found in his system. All we discovered was a meal of sandwich and chips. Honestly, did you not read the report I sent?” Russell Tringham pointed out, crossing his way over to Edward. “Or are you as dense as your leg? Were the words too big for your puny brain?”

“Shut the hell up, Tringham! When the fuck did you get here? Who let you out of your cage?”

“I assure you, I'm quite capable of letting myself out unlike some people, Elric. As for my being here, I came to give Al my findings.”

“Wait, what report? I never got a fuckin’ report.”

“I gave it to your department. No matter; not like you'd understand it with your feeble mind,” Russell proclaimed, pulling a paper from his stack of paperwork, handing it to Al. “This is the most up to date report. I received back the dentals as well. It’s listed on the report.”

Edward glared at Russell, hoping to burn a hole in the back of his head as he handed the report to Al. He watched Al’s facial expression, noticing the slight shifts. Whatever the fuck the report said was bothering him.

Ignoring Russell, he shoved his way past him.

“Al?”

“Conclusively, the victim was tortured to death—most likely kept alive for hours. Whoever did this is sick person, Ed. Fletcher and I noticed more drug inconsistencies that were never ran. What has been listed as cocaine, heroin, and various other drugs have been coming up as various pain relievers,” Al explained, gesturing for them to look at the samples through the microscope.

Edward grunted and peered through the scope, going through each slide. Interesting. He felt another body slide up next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Edward tensed and growled, knocking the offending appendage off.

“The hell, Tringham?”

“Just wanting to look, Edward,” Russell smirked, knowing full well what he was doing.

Glaring at the prick, Edward shuffled away from the scope. “Fuck, fine. Take a look, dumbass.”

The asshole couldn’t pick a damn mood to be in. Edward didn’t need this shit. He glanced at Al, who was frowning.

“Edward, this report says the victim was former Officer Denny Brosh,” Al whispered, handing the attached photo over to his brother. “According to Russell, he was dismissed a week before we found him based on lack of integrity.”

Edward stared at the photo of the young, blond officer with a smile full of hope. Well, guess Kateus was right, afterall. He felt his grip tighten around it before he quickly released it, not wanting to crush the photo. Something was just not adding up.

“Kain, have you cleaned up the tape yet?” Edward questioned, rounding on the man as he entered the lab.

“Uhh...no. It’s bit tricky, Detec—” Kain said, fixing his glasses. “I mean Ed. It's going to take time.”

“Hmm... Let me know as soon as you have it done. Al says you're a whiz on the computer,” Ed  said, grabbing Russell’s notes from Al. “Do you think you could dig up anything about this man? I want to know everything, unofficially.”

“I don’t know about that, Detec—Ed,” Kain stammered, looking around nervously for anyone to help him.

“Kain, my brother believes in your skills and trusts you. So, I trust you,” Ed reassured softly.

“Might take some time, but I can do it. What do you want me to do with the information once I have it?” Kain said, trying hard not to fidget under Edward’s direct stare.

“Give it to Al. I just want to see something,” Edward said, thrusting the file at Kain, who shakily grabbed the file, swallowing repeatedly. He watched the meek man disappear down the hallway before turning towards his brother.

Edward peered at his brother, and then the Tringham brothers with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Ed—” Al started to admonish, but the shrill noise of Edward’s phone saved him from a scolding. Edward pulled out his phone, muttering “the fuck do you want” at it before all of their phones went off—must be another case. Edward quickly scanned the message and nodded to the Tringhams before gathering their gear.

 

* * *

 

The smell was awful; another burned victim. This time in an alley. Edward swore several times as he approached the body. He could see that Tringham was already processing the victim. Luckily, Kateus was nowhere to be seen, yet. Thank fuck for that.

The victim lay in a fetal position behind a dumpster. By all accounts, he would have appeared like a homeless man until you stepped closer. His body was mangled flesh slashed open in wide, sweeping cuts, as if he’d been toy with. The skin melted off the bone and appeared to be covered in some kind of accelerant.  

Covering his mouth, he approached Tringham and crouched next to him.

“Male, various lacerations across the back and torso—” Russell explained, closely examining the body, “burns across the length of the body. Residue suggests a form of accelerant was used.”

“Tringham, cut the crap. Tell me what you think,” Edward barked, peering closely at the body.

“Same MO as previous victims, Detective,” Russell bit out, finishing up his exam.

Edward nodded and left Tringham to his work. He could see the rest of forensics working steadily on finding evidence. He furrowed his brow, wondering why Kateus wasn’t there, yet.  He strode towards his brother until he noticed something glinting by the side of the dumpster.

Quietly walking over to the other side of the dumpster, he pulled latex gloves over his fingers. Crouching where he knew he’d seen the glinting, he slid his hand under the dumpster and grasped the hilt of something. He turned it over in his palm. It was a silver dagger with a dragon eating its tail in a circle stamped on the hilt—the same symbol found stamped on the bags of drugs. Edward spun it in his hand and looked closely at the tip of the blade.  Black flecks could be seen. Depositing it into the bag, Edward strode over to Fletcher.

“Hey, Fletcher, run this for me, would ya?”

“Sure, Ed.  Think it's the murder weapon?”  Fletcher asked, closely examining the dagger.

“Just let me know when you’re done or tell Al,” Edward shrugged, heading towards his sedan.

Whoever the fucker was, he was getting sloppy. Either way, it was time for Edward to go back to club alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has kudo'd and commented. They make my day! Since it's my birthday, I decided to post another chapter for everyone. Enjoy!

* * *

 

Edward pulled his skull belt through the loops of his leather pants. Tonight, he would begin his undercover job officially. Al wasn’t happy with him, but he had to do his job. His brother would have to understand that, eventually.

This wasn't a job he wanted to do—it was a necessity. His career was on the line to solve these murders and he had a duty to protect the people, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil. Edward slid his arms through the sleek, red fabric of his shirt. Working mechanically, he buttoned up the shirt, cursing the number of buttons as pain flared in his shoulder.

Walking over to his dresser, he grabbed his skull wallet and his new black cellphone, stuffing them into his back pockets. He groaned when he heard the lyrical notes of Meghan Trainor's “No” blaring from his usual phone. The man couldn't take a damn hint.  Glancing down, he gritted his teeth as he read the text.  “Fuckin' Richard, can't get a damn clue,” Edward grumbled, quickly texting _fuck off_ in reply. The man had balls, he'd give him that. Who the fuck texts someone to come over and help them because they can't find their fuckin' teddy bear?

 

* * *

  

Alphonse sighed as he raked a hand through his short blond hair. This case was not making any sense. They were missing something, he knew it deep within his heart... Hell, his brother knew it! He just needed to find out what.

He glanced down at the files strewn across his desk and began to type the information into the database for the millionth time. At this rate, they won’t have this case solved by the time they are sixty! Grasping a nearby highlighter, he yanked off the cap with his teeth before vigorously marking key points of the investigation.

Times like these, he missed Ed. Sure, Ed would grumble and grouch, but he had a brilliant mind. Stretching his arms above him, Alphonse scratched at the back of his neck, careful not to disturb the weirdly shaped scar. Thankfully, that was covered most of the time by his shirt collar. It was never too much fun explaining why it looked the way it did. Their mentor, Detective Curtis, had said it was a blood rune derived from some ancient texts.

Alphonse shook his head and sniffed. His face scrunching up while his body shook from the force of the sneeze that rocked him. The sound echoed throughout his office. He grabbed a tissue and waved a hand towards the door when his assistant poke her head it. Sighing, he got up and went to the sink to thoroughly wash his hands. He worked in a sensitive area—no need to contaminate things.  Settling back down in his office chair, Alphonse cradled his face with his palm, eyeing the room around him for a speck of dust.  Since it wasn’t that time of year in Central City, he needed to make sure that nothing in his office would contaminate any evidence he might have nearby...  Knowing his luck, someone was speaking of him and planning his murder.

 

* * *

 

She sighed as she waited in the darkened room with her companion at her side. This was taking entirely too long. She hated waiting. The sound of footsteps alerted her to their guests.

“Is everything in place?” the taller of the two demanded.

“Everything is falling into order. Soon, we will be able to start the next phase,” she replied in a bored voice.

“I get to play soon? Been so hungry for a new playmate,” her champion complained, slobbering over himself.

“Yes, very soon.”

 

* * *

 

Edward forced himself not to roll his eyes as he gave the burly bouncer a slip of paper with a twenty, flashing a seductive smile. The burly bouncer smirked, letting Edward into the club with a swat to his ass. Edward gritted his teeth knowing the man would be in for a surprise when he tried to call. Nothing like 1-800-FUCK-YOU to make a day better.  

Edward glanced around the dimly-lit club taking note of the various people around him—couples groping each other in their secluded booths; the music drowning out their obscene noises while giving quite a show. Shaking his head, he strode towards the bar, smirking as he made eye contact with the bartender ordering his beer. He felt the randy bartender’s fingertips trail around his wrist as he handed him his beer, giving him a wink. Edward smiled and turned to watch the writhing bodies on the floor, flowing into each other as he took a swig of his cheap beer.

Finishing it, he set it on the bar and made his way into the crowd, keeping an eye out for Mustang’s crew. He knew that they selected people to party. He just needed to find a way to be invited up. Edward narrowed his eyes as he watched several men and women get turned away from the VIP staircase. It wouldn't do him any damn good if he couldn't get selected _._

Feeling the beat of the music flow through his body, Edward made his way to the dance floor keeping an eye on the staircase.  He began to move his hips to the beat when he noticed a Xingese man in flowing cream robes exit the staircase. Edward knew who the man was: Ling Yao, Mustang’s business partner and rival. Edward’s smirk was pure predator as a plan began to formulate in his mind. It seems he might have found his way in.

Yao wasn't bad looking. His ebony hair was slicked back, tied with a black ribbon and the robes accentuated the man's muscles in a very flattering way. However, Yao’s stance alone screamed dangerous while he conversed with a shifty little man with a flame etched into his cheek.

The other man looked nervous, but Edward ignored him. He casually placed himself in the view of Yao while he signaled a nearby waitress.  

“A drink, sir?” a young red-haired waitress asked, displaying her tray of various drinks to him. Edward smiled and bent down, perusing the selection when he felt a muscular form against his back.

“Now what do we have here? Why is a beautiful thing like yourself _all alone_?” Yao purred against his ear.

Edward inwardly whooped and picked up a glass of scotch. He took a fortifying sip before facing the taller man.

“New in town. Thought I'd try the place out,” Edward replied.

“Oh, that so? Well allow me to be your escort Mr. —”

“Hohenheim. Edward Hohenheim. But, everyone calls me Ed.”

“Well Ed, let me have the honor of dancing with you tonight,” Yao murmured, letting his eyes roam Edward’s body suggestively.

“Sure, what the hell,” Edward shrugged, leading the taller man onto the floor.  He let the music move him as he felt a warm hand around his waist, pulling him against the others man's chest as they began to grind.

 

* * *

 

Roy ran a hand through his hair as he listened to Riza. _Things were about to get complicated, his jesters had infiltrated deeply into the castle._ He nodded his acknowledgement to her before sauntering over to the leather couch, where two scantily clad women already waited for him— courtesy of his partner. He kissed each of them, making sure to leave them breathless before motioning for Havoc to join him at the balcony.

It was stupid, really, but ever since that night two weeks ago he had searched his club for the golden angel from before. He twirled his lighter in between his fingers before lighting up Havoc’s cigarette. He watched the blond man nod in gratitude before turning towards the floor below them.

He could make out several various dealings being conducted inside his club. He let his gaze turn to the dance floor when a flash of gold caught his attention. Within the writhing mass of bodies was his business partner grinding obscenely against his golden angel.  

“Yo, Boss, ya want me to look again for that kid?” Havoc asked between puffs of his cigarette.

Mustang ignored him as he felt his knuckles clench around the railing, his eyes narrowing at the sight below him.   _Just how the fuck did Yao get his filthy little hands on his golden angel?_

“Boss?” Havoc asked quietly, following his line of sight to the floor, his eyes widening as he spotted Mr. Yao.

“Tell Yao to get his scrawny ass back up here. Let him bring his friend,” Roy snapped. “Breda go find company for our guests. Make sure the _Senator_ is entertained.”

Mustang scowled, sprawling himself out on the leather couch as his men hurried to do their tasks. He petted one of the scantily clad women. They draped themselves over him, nibbling against his neck.

_Yes, things were about to get interesting._

 

* * *

 

Ling grinned as he pulled the sweet body of his prey closer. He could feel him nodding in approval and let his grin turn lecherous. Yes, they would have fun with this one. He groaned; the blond’s delicious looking ass was rubbing against him obscenely. _Fuck_ , this kid was a damn tease. The Xingese man narrowed his eyes. Havoc was headed his way.  _Damn it_ , what did he want now?!

He tilted his head slightly, scowling at Mustang’s henchmen. Havoc nodded in his direction and looked towards the staircase. The message was clear: _Get your ass up there._ Well, he would be taking his new toy with him. The kid wanted to party after all and who was he to disappoint... He smirked at the thought of what he could do to the delicious man in one of the booths upstairs.

But first, business. He leaned forward, letting his lips rest against the blond’s ear, giving it a little nibble. He reveled in the gasp from the shorter man and locked his arm around the man’s waist.

“Let’s go upstairs, I have a little business to attend to and after that I’ll give you a real party,” Ling murmured before letting go, holding his hand out.  He watched Edward debate with himself. He grinned as Edward shrugged, taking his hand. Ling led him through the crowd, twisting his way around the writhing bodies before stopping at the roped off entrance to the VIP staircase.

 

* * *

 

Edward glanced at the rows of booths glittering along the wall. Each booth faced openly outward but was dimly lit, giving an illusion of privacy. From what Edward could tell, there were several well known guests receiving ‘services’ within them. The area itself looked like the galaxy had spilled over into a twilight of fire, giving the impression of black flames engulfing them all. Edward suppressed the urge to whistle. _Whoever the hell Mustang got to paint this place knows their shit.  Al would flip trying to figure out how they accomplished this._

A heavy set man with reddish hair done up in a military style cut was waiting for them near the top of the stairway. He was clearly Mustang’s muscle, dressed to the nines in a dark suit. Edward glanced to Yao, who seemed to be having some sort of pissing contest with the muscle. “Ya know the rules, Mr. Yao. Everyone must be checked, even your new toy before ya see the Boss. Were you planning on giving Little Bit to the Boss?” the muscle taunted, grinning at Yao as he rolled up his sleeves. Edward bit the inside of his cheek before placing a hand over Yao’s wrist.

“What kind of _Party_ is this, Ling?” he whispered, giving Yao his most wide-eyed stare. Yao glared at the muscle with fury etched into his face. “Breda, stop fucking around. I already checked him out. _Thoroughly_. No need to get your meaty hands on him. Let me pass and go do your job,” he spat, tugging a ruby-faced Edward towards the center of the VIP area.

The center of the area had obsidian marble flooring with a swirling pattern of glittering silver. In the center of the pattern sat a leather couch and a few dark leather chairs. Edward could make out the outline of two dark cherry wood tables off to the side and a low, matching coffee table a little distance away from Mustang.

On the couch was the notorious Roy Mustang. Fuckin' Roy Mustang, King of the God Damn Underworld. Mustang was currently surrounded by two scantily-clad women, who were indecently draped over him, nibbling at his throat. Taking a few steps forward, Edward’s eyes traveled towards the blond haired man kneeling in front of the King.  Edward stopped with Yao at his side, his eyes widening at the glinting silver in Mustang’s hand. Edward traced the light silver chain with his eyes, noting that it was attached to the black leather collar on the blond. Edward sucked in a breath as the man bobbed up and down, the small black cloth on the blond’s backside riding up with each downward swallow. Edward watched mesmerized as the blond made appreciative noises around the length in his mouth. He clearly enjoyed serving his ‘King’. Edward swallowed, letting his gaze travel back up to the King of the Underworld.

Mustang looked like a damn porno star in his navy ritzy as hell three piece suit. The mother fucker had the satin looking jacket draped over his shoulders like a goddamn cape. He would eat his badge if the vain bastard didn’t have some sort of elegant cuff links on his jacket. The bastard even had the gall to have the vest unbuttoned, complete with a silver tie hanging loosely from his neck.

Edward had to count in his head because fuck him, _why_ did all the gorgeous men have to be sleaze balls or goddamn Kingpins of the underground?  Edward wanted to curse whatever deity that was playing some twisted game with him. Taking a fortifying breath, Edward continued his unabashed appraisal of the sex god in front him. The bastard’s shirt, which Edward could bet cost more than his monthly salary, was casually untucked with the top three mother fuckin' silver buttons undone.  Ed could make out the signs of a golden tattoo etched into the bastard’s beautiful, pale skin. Making eye contact with the devil spawn, Edward felt his throat constrict and go dry. The man could have been a damn model.

_Damnit..._

Mustang had the darkest eyes that Edward had ever seen that complemented his ‘I-just-rolled-out-of-bed’ hairstyle. Edward wanted to run his hand through it and pull.  Damn, not even the scar on the bastard’s right eye could take away from his sexiness.

He watched Mustang tug on the blond’s hair, pulling roughly with his gloved hands ( _Who the hell has white expensive ass leather gloves? It should not be a fuckin' turn on. Shit!)_ before flicking his tongue over his lips. Damnit to hell, the goddamn prick had a barbell—a fuckin' silver barbell—in his perfect tongue and some sort of hacked up, reddish tattoo stood out against his Majesty’s neck.

Edward wanted to scream, curse—maybe even cry. The world was not fair.  It didn’t help that the noises Mustang was making were obscene, but fuck did it send lightning down Edward’s spine. The man just oozed sex. _Damnit_ , he was so fuckin' screwed. Edward felt Yao tug on his hand and felt his face heat up to a ridiculous temperature. Just great, he had been caught staring.  

“So innocent. Don’t worry, we will start our own party soon,” Yao murmured, pulling him closer, placing lingering kisses on his heated skin. Edward closed his eyes, breathing deeply as they strode over to Mustang. The taller Xingese man curled his arms around him possessively before turning him to face the impressive display in front of him.

“Watch them, my Edward. See how he fucks his mouth? How he grasps the chain tighter and how much his pet enjoys it? Do you wonder what it could be like? I could show you,” Yao huskily whispered, tracing his ear with his tongue, nibbling on the reddened tips.

Edward fought to contain his moan and leaned against Yao, trying to focus his eyes on the sight before him. The blond man currently servicing the King was making choking noises; Mustang was fuckin’ the man’s mouth relentlessly tightening his hold on the chain. The blond man gave a delighted gasp when Mustang tugged the chain harder. Edward watched Mustang languidly explore the redhead woman on his left while the brunette roamed his chest with her hands and mouth, exposing more of the delicious golden dragon tattoo for Edward’s perusal. Edward shifted himself against Yao, feeling the other man’s clear arousal against his backside. Yao wetly sucked against his neck.  Edward whimpered, trying to ignore the other man’s attentions.

Edward bit his lip, trying not to rub against Yao as the man licked his neck towards his ear. He could feel the pleasure of it shooting down his spine and down to his groin. Edward moaned loudly as the sparkling of black metal caught his attention, glittering in Mustang’s left ear.

_Mustang was a fuckin' wet dream…_

He turned his head slightly towards the entrance. Ed watched another muscled man step towards the heavy set man and whisper something. This one was a leaner blond man dressed more casually in a white buttoned down and jeans. Edward couldn’t make out what they were saying over the gasps and grunts of the scene before him. He didn’t even notice the stoic blonde woman standing behind the King.

Edward was trying very hard not to pay attention to the free porno that was sending happy trails of pleasure down his spine. It wasn’t his fault that it was hot. Shit, this job was going to kill him. He felt Yao’s finger along his jaw, turning his head towards him when a resounding snap echoed within the room.

Startled, Edward jumped as Mustang dismissed his toys with a grim expression. Edward licked his lips. Mustang was casually tucking himself back into his navy trousers. Edward was sure that the slow agonizing pace Mustang was doing was meant to torture him.  Edward followed the long lithe fingers that were slowly sliding silver buttons into place before traveling towards Mustang’s dark hair. Edward felt his breath hitch as Mustang ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it even more before settling on his throne.

“Would you care for a drink, Yao, and one for your friend of course?” Mustang smirked, signaling for his most expensive brandy. Waiters soon bustled around Mustang before stopping in front of him and Yao. Closing his eyes, Edward slowly counted in his head as Yao handed him another drink. He felt the soft caress of Yao’s fingers against his jaw as he leaned backward. Opening his eyes, Edward watched Mustang take a sip of his drink, openly leering at him. Glancing down at his drink, Edward took a long sip, licking the liquor from his lips with a smack.

“What do you want, Mustang?” Yao growled, his voice deepening with every word as his face twisted violently.

“Now, Yao, no need for the hostility. After all, we are all friends here. Aren’t we?  Why don’t you introduce me to your friend,” Mustang taunted, sipping his brandy.

“ _Oh?_ Are we _friends,_ Mustang? Business Partners, yes. Friends, hmmm, maybe for the _right price_ and you know me well, _don’t you,_ Mustang? _Oh, How_ I do love to collect pretty things; especially ones that fit so perfectly against _my body_ ,” Yao sneered, arching his eyebrow in a silent challenge, bucking his hips forwards, earning a startled gasp from Edward.

“Now, no need to be _Greedy_ , Ling. I did wonder if you were collecting him for your _private collection._ You already have amassed so _many_ young, beautiful things and this one deserve to be _worshipped_ properly,” Mustang challenged, flipping his lighter open, glaring heatedly at his business partner.

Yao pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at the arrogant man in front him. Gazing down at the man nestled against him, he roughly nipped at the man’s delicious neck, trailing his tongue upwards, never breaking eye contact with the King of the Damn Underworld in silent challenge. Curling himself around the shorter beauty, Ling raked his nails along the taut stomach, circling downwards. Smirking, he pressed his lips against the younger man’s sinful mouth, taking advantage of the surprised gasp to thoroughly explore his newest prize, tugging on his golden locks. Enjoying the feel of the younger man arching into him, Ling expertly unlatched the skull belt hindering him from his prize.

Trailing his fingers downwards, Yao traced the delicious blond’s length through his red silken boxers. Delighting in the short pants coming from the shorter man, Yao fisted the clothed erection, stroking him in a teasing manner. Bringing his free hand up, he twisted his fingers into the blond’s ponytail. Swiftly, Yao yanked the blond’s head backwards, earning an obscene moan from his delicious prize. He stared at Mustang triumphantly as Edward began to buck into his hand with wanton abandonment.

The echo of a lighter snapping close harshly forced Edward to stare at the King of the Underworld in astonishment. Mustang looked murderous as he reached towards his boot; the echo of a revolver clicking forced Yao to pause in his ministrations. Breathing deeply, Edward inwardly counted to ten, trying to regain control of the situation. Glancing around, he mentally noted that the click seem to originate from the stoic woman standing in a military stance behind The King. Keeping up with his cover, Edward inhaled deeply, swallowing deeply as the King straightened up, glowering at his business partner.

The humming of flowing bodies below them was drowned out by the eerie stillness that blanketed the VIP section. No one dared to move or breathe. Mustang’s men moved closer, ready to spring into action as the most powerful men in the Underworld stared each other down. Yao broke the eerie silence with a hearty, bone-chilling laugh, tugging on the blond’s hair in a way that forced the younger man to tilt his head to side, exposing the column of his throat. Grinning murderously, Yao trailed his tongue along the exposed skin, nibbling at his ear, daring his rival.

“ _Oh?_ And do you think that you could worship him better than _me?_ We all know how _busy_ you are, _King Mustang_ . I would hate to see such a beautiful specimen like Edward left to writhe on a shelf lonely with dust. Surely you see how much more he would be _appreciated_ by someone who can give him everything he desires,” Yao scowled, his voice taking a rougher edge.

Edward let out a whoosh of air as Yao pulled him forcefully against him, tightening his arms around him. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the shot of pleasure down his spine at Yao’s roughness. He was not prepared for Yao’s clothed length to rub against his cleft in a teasing manner. Gasping, Edward shivered at the sensations over taking his body. Overwhelmed, Edward inhaled deeply, trying not to whimper as Mustang fixed his onyx eyes on him, frowning. His skin heated at the man’s blatant perusal mixed with disapproval. He was in over his head. He whined; Yao had resumed stroking his straining erection at a brutally slow pace.

“It's not you that is making him moan, Mustang, Edward is mine,” Yao snarled, giving a slight twist to his wrist, earning him a delightful whine.

“Oh, is that so?” Mustang drawled, gracefully stalking his way to the duo, his brass coloured Oxfords echoing against the marble floor. “Does he make you want to cum, Edward? May I call you Edward?”

Whimpering from the sound of the King’s deep timbre, the younger man struggled against the Xingese man. Fuck. He needed to get control of this, and soon. He wasn’t a damn toy; this was too much.

“Stop,” he breathed, forcing the Xingese man to still his movement.

“Edward, baby, let me take care of you,” Yao cooed warily, watching Mustang warily as he loomed over them.

Gulping, Edward moved to fix himself when Yao’s fingers clasped around his right hand, digging into the skin. Staring at the offending appendage, Edward elbowed the Xingese man in the gut with a fierce growl, satisfied as the man doubled over.  

“Who gives ya’ll the Goddamn Right to talk about me like some damn toy for your fuckin’ pleasure, ya bastards! I am a fuckin' person!” Edward seethed, stepping closer to the King, putting distance between them.

He didn’t have a moment to blink when the swift movement of the King stunned him. Above him, Mustang had a death grip on his business partner’s wrist that was poised to strike. The cock of a revolver vibrated in the room as the blonde woman leveled her gun on the back of Mr. Yao’s head.  

Clucking his tongue, Mustang gave a painful twist to Yao’s wrist, earning a howl in response. “Now, Ling, he did say to stop. And we must respect the wishes of others. One would think you had no manners acting so uncouth in the presence of such beauty,” Mustang warned, his gaze narrowing dangerously on the man.

“Fuck you, Mustang!” Yao snarled, yanking his hand free. “Call her off Mustang. I’ll behave for now.”

“Riza.”

“Sir?”

“It's alright. It's just a misunderstanding between me and Mr. Yao. He will behave from now on,” Mustang warned, glowering.

Edward stood stock still as Yao nodded before striding over to a black, fiery column. The man leaned against it, rubbing his sore wrist with narrowed eyes.

“May I call you Edward?” Mustang repeated, closing the distance between them.

Sighing, Edward craned his neck to look up at the bastard. It should figure that the wet dream would be graced by the height fairies. Shit, he was so fuckin' screwed. But damnit, he would make this sex god work for it. That shit was not gonna happen again. Alphonse was going to downright murder him if he found out about this shit.

“Look. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I am not putting up with this shit. I just wanted to come here after a long ass day of studying and somehow ended up here. I don’t know you people.”

“Edward, I do apologize. That was not my intention. Some people need to learn their _place._ However, I wanted to get to know you. I find you intriguing. Sei il mio angelo. Giorno e notte penso solo a te,” Mustang drawled, gently tucking Edward’s hair behind his ear, enjoying the quick intake of breath from the younger man.

Edward sighed— _of course_ , the bastard would know Italian! _Why the hell not?_  

“You don’t know me. I’m not some fuck toy. I’m just a college kid,” Edward whispered, feeling heat infuse his cheeks.

He shivered from anticipation as Mustang curled himself around him, pulling him against him. Edward’s blush deepened as a Mustang titled his face upwards with a single finger, staring at him intently.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m Roy Mustang, mio tesoro, tu sei un dono del cielo. Ti voglio baciare,” Roy purred, bringing Edward’s hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on it.  

Roy looked towards Yao when he heard the man coughing loudly. He frowned at the interruption, noting that his men were at the ready. To his right, Breda stood, arms folded with a slight, silver glinting in his knuckles. To his left, Havoc beamed at him, lightly tapping the barrel of his gun on his forearms. Roy didn’t need to look back to know Riza had her hand on her gun. Roy arched his elegant eyebrow in question. Yao was bowing towards Edward in mock defeat.

“Edward... baby, we could have been so good together. _Oh woe_ is my heart that this devil has captured you. I shall save you from his clutches; afterall, I am a _greedy_ man, who doesn’t like to share,” Ling warned dramatically, clenching his fist above his heart before cracking his knuckles.  “But for now we must part, think of me, I shall rescue you ...Adieu for now, my love.”

Roy shook his head at his partner’s antics, watching Yao bow again, blowing Edward a kiss before marching towards the back booths. Titling his head, he watched Havoc leisurely stroll after Yao into the back booths, letting his cigarette hang unceremoniously from his mouth. Havoc would keep Yao busy for now. Grasping Edward’s hand, he led him towards his throne, pulling the man down to straddle his lap. Roy licked his lips, feeling the metal graze his lips as he resituated his tesoro to face him. Leaning forward, he smiled, delighting in the beautiful red stain traveling down Edward’s neck, while Edward’s golden eyes grew comically larger. _Fuck. So beautiful and innocent._

“Nei tuoi occhi c'è il cielo. Ti voglio baciare, mio tesoro,” he moaned, sealing his lips against Edward’s.

Edward’s shocked gasp of breath gave him a perfect opportunity to map his mouth with his own skilled tongue. He sucked on Edward’s tongue, letting his barbell graze against the sensitive flesh of Edward’s tongue. Edward’s breathy moan sent delightful shocks of pleasure down his spine. He groaned, feeling Edward’s tongue begin to battle his for dominance. Roy shifted, placing his arms around the petite blond, pulling him flush against him. Roy nipped at Edward’s lip, pulling the delicate flesh between his teeth, earning him an encouraging groan. He felt Edward arch against him, shuddering with pleasure as he sucked on the younger’s man tongue, stroking Edward’s hips with his fingers. He moaned when Edward wrapped his himself around him as he lowered him onto his throne.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm updating! Yay! I am going to try to do weekly updates from now on. Life's been getting hectic, but I want to finish this story before Christmas. Thank you again for all the support for this story. I love getting kudos and comments.  
> 
> 
> A big shout out to [hellosweetie17 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17/pseuds/hellosweetie17). She endures my craziness and puts up with all of my quirks. Lol. You should go take a look at her awesome work! 
> 
> Another shout out to [catiebrie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CatieBrie/pseuds/CatieBrie) for helping to beta this work along with hellosweetie17. I'm pretty sure one day a book will be thrown at me.  
> 
> 
> Alright, I'm done rambling. Enjoy! Happy Reading! ^_^

* * *

 

Edward groaned as he rubbed his head. His head felt like a train had crashed into it. The club was going to kill him. He could see it now, here lies Edward Elric—died because he couldn’t hold his liquor. Damn, he wished Al was here with his handy homeopathic hangover remedy. He never knew what Al put in that stuff, but he could really use it now. He cursed as his phone blared to life, ringing obnoxiously. It felt like a jackhammer was barreling through his skull. Chucking the offending phone onto the table, Edward listlessly made his way to the coffee machine. He mechanically went through the motions of making his coffee. Standing on his tiptoes, he reached into the cabinet and grabbed one of the porcelain mugs, filling it with the heavenly liquid. Inhaling the sweet aroma of his special brew, he took a tentative sip and moaned over the taste. Sitting down at the table, he reached for his evil phone, swiping at the screen. He had a few missed calls and about a dozen texts. Clicking on the text messages, Edward smiled at his brother’s simple message: ‘right cabinet, next to stove, bottom shelf’.

Jumping up, Edward knocked his chair to the floor in his haste. Scrambling over to the stove, he yanked the cabinet on the right open, finding his brother’s special mix. Cradling the precious bottle, he chugged it, cringing at the taste. He silently thanked his lifesaver of a brother as he placed the bottle into the sink. Walking back to the table, Edward gulped the rest of his life blood down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before bending over to fix the chair. Straightening up, he glanced  at the clock. Swearing, he tossed the mug into the sink before racing up the stairs.

Shimming out of his lounge pants, he grabbed a pair of jeans from his closet. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he rubbed his thigh and unhooked his automail prosthetic. Massaging the area with lidocaine cream, he carefully reattached his leg, clenching his teeth. He would need Winry to look at it soon. Methodically he placed his jeans over his legs, fastening the button with practiced ease. Striding into the bathroom, he turned the faucet on and splashed cold water on his face. Grabbing a towel and wiping his face, Edward stared at himself. He blushed at the obvious love bites on his neck. Trailing his eyes over his reflection, he trailed his fingers along the bite, becoming lost in his thoughts.

Mustang had gotten a bit frisky last night and it was becoming harder not to succumb to the man’s charm. Surprisingly, he never pushed Ed for more. He had been deep into his cover for over a month, now. It was exhausting, but ....

The sharp flare of pain in his shoulder brought him back to reality.  Sighing heavily, he peered over his automail arm, inspecting it for any issue. Grabbing the cream, he rubbed a generous amount in where the port connected to his flesh. He really needed to give a Winry a call before it got cold.  Rubbing his other shoulder,  he massaged the lidocaine cream into it to, hoping to ease the additional ache. Swinging his arm back and forth, he watched the black wavy lines of his tribal tattoo dance with the motion. Shaking his head, he quickly braided his blond hair and finished his bathroom routine. Wiping his hands on a towel, he walked to his closet and grabbed a red sweater from within it. Quickly, he shrugged it on over his head before clambering down the stairs.

Striding into the kitchen, he plucked his phone from the table, sorting through the messages. He rolled his eyes at the coded message from ‘mom’. Honestly, what did the Captain think? That one look at his backside and Mustang would lick his boots?

Blushing at the stray thought, Edward clicked through his messages, smiling at the _good luck_ from the King of the Underworld. Men like Mustang needed a good chase, a challenge before they let a person in. He was working as fast as he could, but maybe he was getting closer. The man was starting to trust him more. Now, he would leave him for extended periods of time to take care of business with one of his men. However, last night...last night he had left him unsupervised. He wanted to look around, the urge was strong, but he needed to bide his time. It wouldn’t do him any good to get caught at this point. The reason was simple—it was a test.  

He had stayed on the couch, listening to the sounds around him, sipping his rum and coke as if nothing was happening. He’d pretended not to notice the clientele lost in the abyss of drug-induced pleasure being served around him. If he could just gain more of Mustang’s trust, he might just be able to swipe whatever they were taking for Al and his team to analyze. He didn’t have time to mull over the ways to get a hold of the drug; Mustang had come back pristine as ever, kissing him thoroughly before ordering enough sake to serve the entire club into a coma. The rest of the night had gone by in a blur, but he had noticed Mustang’s bruised knuckles and the tension in the air.  Havoc and Breda had been mysteriously absent as well. Those men were usually plastered to Mustang’s side.

Tying his laces of his boots, Edward sighed as he straightened himself back up. Grabbing his pack near the door, Edward walked out the door, locking it behind him. For now, he needed to be Edward Hohenheim and he had a class to get to. Hopefully, the exam wouldn’t take long. Edward stuck his hands in his pockets, walking towards the elevator, pretending not to notice the men following swiftly behind him.

 

* * *

 

“Good, Catherine. Make sure the new dress doesn't disappear or get any tears. We wouldn’t want to disappoint,” Mustang commanded, ending the phone call as Hawkeye entered his office. He shook his head at her raised brow.

After all these years, she was the only one he fully trusted. His Queen on the board. He wasn’t sure where this new piece would fit, but… Rubbing his temples, he placed his elbows on his mahogany desk and released a heavy sigh. “Report.”

“Jesters in the castle have settled into their roles, sir. The pawn is showing his expertise and may have the proof we need, soon. The rook has been at the door, but has made no headway,” Hawkeye answered, walking briskly to the leather chair in front of his desk.

“I see. What is the agenda for today?” Roy questioned, leaning back into his black leather chair, tapping his index fingers against his mouth.

Hawkeye glanced at the clipboard, pursing her lips as she sat down across from Mustang, her back ramrod straight.

“The Senator wants a meeting today. I scheduled him for 1400, sir. You have several meetings with the distributors today. The Madam wishes for you to call her as soon as possible. The girls are getting antsy with all the movement in the city. You need to reassure them,” Hawkeye stated, tapping her pen against the clipboard.

Roy scowled, rolling his eyes upward. The Senator’s tastes were starting to get costly. He needed the man to start being worth his salt. Otherwise—“And Yao?”

“Working on the next phase, sir.”

Roy nodded, shuffling through his recent stack of paperwork, narrowingly missing the quirk of his Queen’s mouth.

“Sir, those papers need signing—not shuffling,” Hawkeye quipped at his exasperated look. “I have other news as well, sir.”

“And that would be…” Roy prompted when Riza hesitated.

“Your suspicions were correct as always, sir.” Riza answered, setting her clipboard into her lap.

Mustang exhaled loudly, closing his eyes at the news. He had known it—he just didn’t want to be right—but hearing it was a blow all the same. He opened his eyes at the polite cough from his subordinate. He raised a delicate eyebrow in question.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Mustang gave a slight nod, watching his long time friend’s expression soften.

“Roy, are you sure this is a good idea? It’s risky and bold. It could crumble everything we’ve worked for,” Riza said softly, gazing at him with concern in her brown eyes.

Mustang stayed silent, observing his friend. Even now, she sat straight as a rod, her blonde hair was swept up held tightly by a clip, giving her a stern look. But—the worry shining evidently in her eyes made him pause. He knew the reasons behind her demeanor and concern. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together, his frown deepening as her next words reached his ears.

“The board you carefully created. Each piece playing their role. One wrong move, one ill-placed piece and checkmate, sir. And it may not be in your favor in the end, if you're not careful.” Riza stood, having said her piece. As she opened the door to leave, she added, "I hope you know what you're doing, sir."

“So do I,” Roy murmured as the door clicked shut.

 

* * *

 

Edward fidgeted nervously as he followed Mustang’s bouncer, Breda, towards the leather couch in the middle of the VIP section.  He could hear the sounds of Mustang’s patrons enjoying themselves as men and women flitted about. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he shuffled his feet forward, pretending to be interested in the marble flooring as he tried to catch bits of conversation.

“Little Bit, Boss will be back in a minute. He said to make yourself comfortable,” Breda said, gesturing towards the dark leather couch. Edward nodded meekly and sat upon Mustang’s prized throne. He leaned backwards, closing his eyes as he listened to the going-ons. There had to be a way for him to get that drug. There was a connection, he just needed to prove it.  

“Well, what do we have here? Mustang left his pet all alone,” a nasally voice cooed, pulling Edward from his thoughts.

Opening his eyes, Edward was greeted with the sight of a shifty little man with beady eyes. Sitting up straight, Edward narrowed his eyes at the man.

“What do you want?” Edward asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“To see what the fuss is about, boy. What makes you _so_ special as to capture the King’s attention. Must be your obvious _attributes_ ,” the man leered.

“Not your fuckin’ business. Mr. Whoever-the-fuck-you-are,” Edward snapped, glancing around for Mustang or one of his men. He didn’t know who the hell this guy was. He looked kinda familiar…

“I’ll have you know,” the man began, grabbing Edward’s chin forcefully. “I’m a _very_ important person to the King, I’m—”

“A lowly servant overstepping his bounds,” Mustang drawled, looming over the other man. “Yoki, remove your hands, before I cut them off for daring to touch what is _mine_.”

Edward released a breath as the beady-eyed man let go of his face as if he had been burned. Edward watched as Yoki began to stammer and stutter his apologies as he turned to face Mustang.

“Mr. Mustang, I was just….”

“I believe Yoki, that you yet need _another_ reminder of your place within my kingdom.” Mustang flipped lighter open. Edward glanced at Yoki and saw the color drain from his face.

“Mist...Mister...Mustang... I meant no disrespect. This boy questioned my place. A _pet_ ” Yoki stammered, bowing low.

Edward raised his eyebrow at the word ‘pet’ and gazed at Mustang, who was glaring down at the small man. Edward sucked in a breath as Mustang marched closer to Yoki, his lighter the only sound echoing in the room as it snapped shut.  Edward leaned forward as Mustang swiftly removed a knife from Yoki’s hip, pinning the man against him with the blade at his neck. Transfixed, Edward watched Mustang drag the blade slowly across the man’s face.

“You would do well to remember, Yoki. That even my _pets_ are above _you_ ,” Mustang hissed, slashing the man’s cheek through his branded mark.  Yoki’s pleas for forgiveness fell on deaf ears as Mustang raised his dark eyes, staring intently at Edward. Edward’s breath caught, lost to the abyss of Mustang’s possessiveness, his next words sending pleasure down his spine.  

“But make no mistake, he is _anything_ but a pet. Now, be a good dog and go lick his boots clean,” Mustang ordered, his voice dangerously low as he threw the sobbing man to the floor.

Edward leaned backwards, watching Mustang place his boot on the man’s back as he tried to crawl away. Edward focused on the slow movements of Mustang’s hands, methodically cleaning the blade before tossing it to Havoc, who caught it with ease.

Edward felt his breath hitch as Mustang stalked over to him, leaving Havoc to hold Yoki in place. Edward titled his head upwards, staring at Mustang, who loomed over him. Mustang bent down, placing his arm around Edward, trapping him before capturing his mouth in a brutal kiss. Edward moaned, feeling Mustang’s talented tongue dance with his own. Strong, muscular arms lifted him from the couch, prompting him to wrap his legs around the older man. Edward gasped as Mustang grinded his hips against him, their erections brushing against each other. Breaking away from the kiss, Edward leaned his head on Mustang’s chest, taking deep breaths as the King settled himself on his throne. Edward whimpered, arching his back against Mustang’s brutal assault against his neck. Breathing heavily, he felt Mustang turned him around to face their audience.

“Crawl, Yoki. Your master is waiting,” Mustang commanded, placing light nips against Edward’s neck.  

Dazedly, Edward watched Havoc release his hold on the man, who began to protest immediately. The cocking of a gun silenced the room. Edward groaned. Mustang was trailing his fingers down his abdomen towards his straining erection; the light caress caused Edward to buck into Mustang’s hand. He didn’t even notice Yoki crawling towards him, sobbing pathetically. Edward closed his eyes, jerking involuntarily from the hard press of Mustang's palm against his erection. He could feel Mustang’s smug smirk against his neck. Closing his eyes, he shuddered from the onslaught of pleasure tingling down his spine.

“Edward, open them,” Mustang commanded, placing his hand along Edward's jaw in a firm grip. “Watch him, mio tesoro. You're above him in every way. You hold the power over him. He's just a lowly servant not even worth the dirt on your boots.”

Edward felt dizzy from the picture Mustang painted. He inhaled sharply as Mustang continued to palm his erection, only pausing to snap his fingers. Mustang’s blond pet came forth hurriedly, placing himself under Edward’s legs on all fours. Edward tipped his head backwards, exposing his throat to Mustangs perusal, feeling the burn from Mustang rough grip in his hair. He couldn't help the low moan that escaped him.  

“Be a good boy, Yoki. Clean his boots.”

Edward watched wide-eyed as Yoki began to lick his boots clean, tears rolling down his face in humiliation. Ed arched against Mustang’s chest as a warm hand encircled his straining erection and began to pump. He didn’t even know when Mustang had undone his zipper. All of this shouldn’t turn him on. But… Fuck.

“Yoki, This is where you belong: below his feet like the dog you are. Look how beautiful my tesoro is? This is something that you will never have,” Mustang drawled, pumping his hand faster. “That’s a good boy, lick it every bit of dirt off. I want them to shine.”

Edward panted, trying to gain his bearings. This was too much. Havoc was standing behind Yoki, gun cocked against his head, nudging him further into the leather of Ed’s boots. Edward bucked his hips, nearly kicking Yoki in the face, moaning Mustang’s name as his came unexpectedly, covering Mustang’s hand in thick ropes. Edward sagged against Mustang, breathing heavily. Mustang leaned them forward, shifting Edward closer to him before wiping his cum soaked hand over Yoki’s shirt. Edward groaned while Roy methodically put him back to rights, complete with a tender kiss to his neck, ignoring the man in front of them.

“You’d do well to remember that. Next time, I will not be as forgiving,” Mustang growled, his eyes glinting dangerously while absently running his fingers through Edward's hair.

Feeling drained, Edward leaned against Mustang’s chest, trying to process what had just happened. He blinked, the sound of Mustang’s fingers snapping bringing his attention back to the offending man. Yoki was cowering below them, his head bowed with whispered pleas of forgiveness before being yanked up by Havoc and dragged away. His cries falling on deaf ears, business returning to normal. The question was: what was normal now?

 

* * *

 

Alphonse glanced at the clock on his desk and groaned. _When did it become midnight?_ Damn, he needed a break.  Blinking away his weariness, Al stood and stretched his arms with a yawn. He needed to get home. No good would come from him not sleeping. Ed would murder him if he didn’t care for himself. Besides, Mr. Grumpy and Mr. Cuddles needed to be fed. Gathering his keys, he stepped out of his office and locked the door. Flipping a switch nearby, he pressed his thumb against it and heard the audible click of metal sliding into place. They could never be too careful.  Placing his keys into his pocket, he turned around only to come face to face with his brother’s superior officer, Kateus.

“What’s got you working so late, Elric? Shouldn’t you be home by now?” Kateus inquired, leaning against the wall.

“You know this and that. Various cases,” Al said cautiously, looking Kateus in the eyes. He never did like the man. There was something cold, even calculating about the officer.

“Well, I won’t keep you. Drive safe, Elric. You never know what might be lurking in the dark,” Kateus said with a grin, pushing himself from the wall before making his way to the elevators.

Al narrowed his eyes as he watched Kateus’ diminishing form slink away, whistling some dark tune. _That man has a screw loose. Just why is he down here at this time of night?_ Al repressed a shiver as he headed towards Fletcher's lab. He couldn’t shake the terrible feeling he had.

 

* * *

 

The alley was dimly lit as he sidestepped a puddle of something with a grimace. He didn’t want to think of what it was. Glancing at his watch, he fidgeted nervously, running a hand through his short black hair. He was supposed to be meeting his contact here. They had said midnight and it was already a quarter passed. Shuffling his feet, he leaned against the wall, taking a long drag from his cigarette, watching the smoke puff into the air.

He had important news to tell them; he wondered what was taking so long.  Flicking the butt of the cigarette to the ground, he pushed off the wall, glancing at his watch again. Sighing, he brought his hand towards his face, prodding the mangled flesh until he felt small dribbles of blood against his fingers. Mustang’s days were numbered. He would make sure of it.

The sudden clanking of trash cans caused him to jump, spinning around at the sound. Four spotted tabby cats hissed in his direction before scampering off through the trash.

“Jesus,” he muttered, placing his hand over his heart, breathing heavily. He braced an arm against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He never heard the footsteps behind him. He _did_ struggle as strong arms wrapped around him, placing a cloth over his mouth and nose. Taking a deep breath, a sweet flowery odor greeted him as his body went limp. His eyes glazed over as shadows towered over him and his mind went blank. He never stood a chance.

 

* * *

 

Edward felt like death. He was pretty sure that he had died and was currently residing in hell.  Last night had been… he couldn’t even begin to describe it. Doing his best impression of a zombie stumbling down the stairs, he nearly had a heart attack at the unwelcome sight of Kateus sipping his coffee and reading his paper greeting him. It was too damn early for this.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ed growled, hoping there was still some coffee left in the pot.

“Tsk Tsk, Edward. Is that anyway to talk to your older brother? I was just so _worried_ about my pipsqueak brother when he didn’t check in last night after he got home from school,” Kateus chided, raising his eyebrow.

Edward gritted his teeth and shuffled into the kitchen. He knew his detail was nearby. Mustang was a very paranoid man, though he couldn’t fault him for it. Exhaling loudly, he banged around the kitchen, fixing his coffee, pleased to find more of Al’s special hangover cure. Ignoring the tension brewing as the silence grew louder, Edward slowly stirred a small amount of sugar into his cup, feeling the moments tick by. Setting the spoon down on the counter, Edward marched his way to the table, sitting down across from the older man.

“Mom sent you?” Edward cautiously asked, taking small sips from his hot coffee.

“She’s worried, Edward, that you might be losing sight of your studies,” Kateus remarked, leaning back.

“Nothing to worry about. My studies are going fine, _bro-ther_. Might take a few more months, but my hardwork'll pay off. Before you know it, I’ll be done,” Edward replied, drumming his fingers against his steaming cup.

“Good, pipsqueak. I’ll let her know. She wants you to hurry, but she understands these things may take time,” Kateus acknowledged, standing up from the table. Edward watched as Kateus calmly strode over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder before leaning down.

“But, not too much time, brother. You’re needed at home soon,” Kateus warned into his ear before patting his back. “Oh! And do come home soon...just not the same without you. And drop Alphonse a line sometime. He’s worried, _dear_ brother.”

“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out, brother!” Edward called to the retreating form of his superior officer. He let loose a whoosh of breath as he heard the door click shut. Grabbing his phone, he quickly texted a message to Al, asking for a lunch date. Kateus wanted him to know something...The problem was that he had no idea of what it could be.

 

* * *

 

Edward tugged his black leather jacket closer as he waved at the burly bouncer, chuckling at the groans of disappointment from behind him. He was just freaking glad that he didn’t have to wait in that ridiculous line. The weather felt like it had dropped at least ten degrees. Just thinking about it made his shoulder hurt. Rubbing his shoulder, Edward stepped into the gates of Hell and headed to the bar.

Today, he would get a sample of that damn drug. He would find a way. He couldn’t put if off any longer; Kateus’ visit told him as much. The Captain wanted results. Sighing, he downed the rest of his scotch, setting the glass back on the bar. He closed his eyes in aggravation as a warm body pressed against his, breathing in his ear.  

“Well, look who we have here? Edward, what a pleasant surprise,” the low voice of RIchard purred into his ear.

Just great. Edward spun around on his heel and faced his fellow officer. Just what he needed.

“Richard,” Edward greeted, pushing away from the bar.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile. Been avoiding me, Edward? It was a harmless text,” Richard said, closing the distance between them.

“Fuck off, Richard. Harmless text my ass. You sent a fuckin’ tacky dick pic! And no, Mr. I-think-the-world-revolves-around-me. I have better things to do than worry about your sorry ass!”

“Oh, Edward. I’m wounded. I was just showing you exactly where I thought your little ass could sit,” Richard purred, leaning over the petite blond.

Edward felt his temperature rising. This _mother fucking_ prick! Balling his fists, he silently counted backwards in his head and took a deep breath.

“Richard, I wouldn't sit on that poor excuse for a toothpick if it were the last fucking cock on earth. Now, fuck off,” Edward hissed, narrowing his eyes at the man. Spinning around, Edward began to walk away when Richard grabbed his wrist.

Edward glared at the offending appendage and then its owner. “Let. Go.”

“No,” Richard said, yanking Edward towards him. Edward dug his heels in and resisted the pull. Before, he could retort, Richard gave a cry of pain. Edward stared at his free hand and slowly looked up. Mustang stood above him, holding Richard’s hand in a crushing grip. It looked painful. Swallowing, Edward stared at the two wide-eyed. This could be very bad.

“Edward, who is this?” Mustang asked calmly, his grip tightening. Edward watched Richard buckle under the strain, trying desperately not to cry from the pain.

“No one, Roy. Just a creep. Who is _leaving_ ,” Edward said pointedly to Richard as he walked over to Mustang. He sighed his relief when Mustang released Richard. Mustang cupped Edward’s face tenderly.

“I was beginning to worry that you had gotten lost. Give me your hand,” Roy murmured, leaning over him. Edward held his wrist up to him, flinching at the murderous gaze of the King of the Underworld. Fuck. He needed to fix this and fast.

Ed wrapped his arms around Mustang’s waist, laying his head against the taller man’s chest. “S’rry. I stopped to get a drink and enjoy the beat. I would’ve been up there sooner. But, Richard’s someone from school. He just couldn’t take a hint. He’s leaving. _Now_ ,” Edward explained, locking his gaze with Mustang.

Ed welcomed the warm lips that descended on his own, coaxing his mouth open. He shivered when Mustang pulled him closer and began to invade his mouth. Edward moaned, wrapping his arms around the taller man, using his tiptoes to reach. Edward shyly began to play with Mustang’s tongue, nipping at it lightly. He gave a shudder as Mustang’s low moan vibrated through him. Gasping for breath, Edward broke off the kiss.

He ignored the sputtering from his fellow officer and hoped the idiot would take the hint.

“Edward, you’re playing with Fire. Do you _know_ who he is?” Richard hissed, putting his hand on Edward’s shoulder.

Edward wanted to scream. How was Richard such a fucking idiot?? Ed felt the tension rise between the two men.

“I suggest you leave before I help you along,” Mustang warned, lacing his fingers with Edward’s.

Edward shook his head, turning his back on Richard, who stared at them with his mouth open. He smiled at Mustang. “Dance with me?”

Edward pulled Mustang towards the floor, not waiting for a response. For his own sake, Edward hoped Richard would leave. Edward swallowed as the long, lean body of the King of the Underworld began to grind against his. Edward threw his head back, leaning against Mustang, enjoying the possessive arms wrapped around his middle. He moaned; Mustang had swept his hair to the side and was laying ownership to his neck. This job was going to kill him. He knew it.

 

* * *

 

He groaned, rolling his head to the side as consciousness began to creep into his mind. He tried to move his arms to wipe his eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. He tried again only to meet resistance. He struggled, trying to kick his feet but was met with resistance. Desperate, he forced his eyes open, glancing to his left.

Horror twisted his face as he saw his wrist bound by leather restraints attached to the table he was laid upon. He lifted his head, peering down at his legs, realising he was spread-eagle and fully restrained.

Suddenly, menacing laughter could be heard, causing his body to tremble. The slow approach of footsteps frayed on his nerves, but then they stopped abruptly along with the laughter, leaving only silence. A blinding light flared to life, illuminating him and leaving the rest of the room in shadows. He whined at the veracity of the light as a young man’s face leaned over him. His eyes widened in fear while he young man grinned down at him.

“What do we have here?” the boy mocked, trailing a finger down his shivering body.

“A rat, Pride, for you to play with,” a crackling voice answered from the shadows.

He swallowed, trying to see who was in the room, but the light’s intensity made him see spots as he strained his eyes.

“Father does know I like my toys,” the boy—Pride—contemplated, digging through a tray as metal clanked against the edge.“I wonder if he will last longer than my last toy….Maybe my friends will want to play too.”

“Please, I don’t...I don’t understand, why am I here?” he begged, tears pooling around his eyes, “I...I have a fami—”

He screamed as cold metal greeted his flesh, slicing through his chest like butter. Blood bubbled to the surface.

“He screams so beautifully! Oh! I do hope they get to play with you, too. It's been so long since we had a good toy,” the boy chimed gleefully, wiping the blade against his satin shirt.

“Please...please...why?” he asked before he felt another slice into his chest.

The boy ignored his pleas, digging his fingers into the new wound, spreading it wider. He screamed in agony as he felt something hot splash onto his skin, eating away at it. His bladder released. The oppressive smell of burnt flesh mixed with the foul one of urine filled the room. He gagged.

He barely felt a finger tracing the carving on his face. Meaty hands held his shoulders down. He gagged and sputtered as liquid was forced down his throat, burning him from the inside. His last whispered plea of _why_ went unanswered as the world faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Roy smiled down at the beautiful blond man in his arms. They were currently on his throne, enjoying a round of cocktails. They had just finished a very satisfying round of dancing. Edward was going to put him into an early grave. His tesoro was such a tease.

“Edward,” he breathed. His eyes softened as Edward tilted his chin up from where it lay in Roy’s lap. Leaning down, Roy captured Edward’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Boss.”

Releasing Edward’s mouth, Roy arched his eyebrow at Havoc. He stared intently, waiting patiently for Havoc to stop gawking.  

“Report.”

“The Senator has arrived. Hawkeye sent him his entertainment, sir. However, the new shipment needs your approval,” Havoc informed him, sucking on his cigarette.

Roy nodded and disentangled himself from Edward. Havoc carefully set a bag of pills in front of him. Roy picked up the bag. He placed his hand inside and withdrew a handful. Spreading them on the table, Roy eyed them critically before he broke one in half and placed it within his mouth. He closed his eyes and opened them again.

“They’ll do, Havoc. I’ll deliver them personally,” he said after a moment, standing up. And then to Edward, “I’ll be back, my treasure. Make yourself comfortable. This won’t take long.”

Roy walked away, bag clasped in his hand. He stepped inside his office, nodding towards Hawkeye. He knew the table would be too much temptation. He pushed his tongue towards his cheek, feeling the pill reside there. Taking a napkin from Hawkeye, he spit the pill out, disposing of it. He scowled at Riza’s upturned eyebrow and faced his security monitors.

“Riza, I want you to look into the man who was with Edward earlier. I want everything. Have Breda follow him. Tell Havoc to keep the Senator busy,” Roy murmured, watching the monitors around his desk.

“Yes, Sir,” Riza saluted, turning on her heel and walking towards the door. Roy lifted his head when he felt her questioning gaze.

“Roy? Was that wise?”

“Only time will tell,” he muttered, hearing the door click closed. Straightening up, Roy ran a hand through his dark hair. He waited another five minutes before heading out the door. He locked the office behind him. Fixing his shirt, he walked gracefully towards his Throne. He wasn’t going to dwell on the what if’s. He had played his next move and now it was time to wait. He only hoped that it wouldn’t leave him undefended in the end.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse ran a hand through his short blond hair as he stared grimly at the scene before him. The body had been unceremoniously dumped near the university district. College students had been milling about getting ready to head to their favorite coffee spot when they had discovered the gruesome scene.

Everywhere in the alley was painted in blood, dripping and flowing together as if the alley had become a canvas. Strips of skin had been carved and hung against the brick wall in an artistic pattern. How no one saw this depravity in action was beyond him. He noted the crime scene tape keeping the gawkers at bay as curtains swayed from the nearby apartments. Somebody saw something, he was sure of it, but fear had a terrible way of silencing people.

Clutching his gear, he slowly approached the victim, ignoring the white noise around him. He concentrated on memorizing the scene, not wanting to leave any detail untouched. He locked his eyes on the victim, committing the poor soul’s horrified face lined with white froth to his memory.

“Elric, hurry your ass up,” Kateus barked, turning to talk to another officer.

Scowling at the back of Kateus, Al set to work taking photos of the scene. He could see his team working about him efficiently. Muttering under his breath, he bent down to get a better angle as Russell breezed in. Nodding to the coroner, Al began gathering evidence meticulously. He couldn’t shake the bad feeling in his gut: something wasn’t adding up, he just didn’t know what it was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating. Life has gotten in the way. I've been sick for awhile and will be having surgery on Monday. I don't know what will happen after that.
> 
> On another note, I have only three more chapters to write and three waiting to be edited. If everything goes well, there might be a good amount of updates during my recovery time. Fingers Crossed.  
> 
> 
> I really appreciate all the comments and kudo's Heathen's has been getting. This has been a labor of love and your support is making it worth it. ^_^

* * *

 

Edward stared at his purpling wrist and groaned. _Just what he needed right now_. Glancing down at his phone, he quickly typed ‘where are you?’ before placing it back down on the café table. Leaning back in the iron wrought chair, Edward closed his eyes in aggravation.

 _Fuckin’ Richard_. He was going to blow his cover and screw up the entire investigation. Picking up his phone, he rolled his eyes at his brother’s wonderful reply; only Al would get distracted by a stray cat. Shaking his head, he picked up his coffee and sipped cautiously, enjoying the wonderful warmth sliding down his throat.

Looking upwards, Edward smiled softly at the beautiful display of leaves turning various shades of red and orange. A small breeze ruffled through his hair, sending the leaves scattering around him. It would be winter soon.  This just meant that he was gonna need Winry soon; his injuries always got worse in the cold. Sighing, he grabbed his phone, sending a quick text to Winry. Hopefully, she would be able to come see him soon.

Setting the phone down, Edward stuffed his hands into his jacket, feeling the small compact usb drive. He could feel the eyes of his detail from across the way. For all Mustang knew, he was just having a meet up with his brother. Running his hand through his hair, Edward leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the cool glass. He was missing something and it was driving him nuts. Getting the pill was too easy; there was more going on... Just wasn’t sure what or how it fit. The scrapping of the metal chair against the cement brought him out of his reverie. Edward looked up to see his brother’s face looking down at him in disapproval.

“Brother, aren’t you sleeping?” Al asked quietly, sitting across from Ed.

“ _Al!_ Don’t start. School’s hard, ya know?” Edward whined, beating his head against the table.

“Tch. That’s what you get for putting it off, brother. Did ya bring me those photos for your project?” Al inquired, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate, ignoring his brother’s antics.

“Yeah, I got it. Was a real bitch, too. The damn things didn’t want to save right. You’d think you can get them to work?” Edward asked, pulling the usb drive from his jacket.

Al held out his hand and took the drive from his brother. He raised his eyebrow at the skull design before releasing an exasperated sigh. “Shouldn’t be too hard. At least, we have a bit before it's due. How’s your other classes going?”

“I’m surviving. There’s a couple of pin heads. But, nothing I can’t handle. How’s mom?”

“She’s herself. She’s started getting onto my case, but you know how she is,” Al replied evenly, shrugging his shoulders.

Edward sighed. “Yeah, I know. S’rry Al. I gotta get home and finish studying for this test tomorrow. Let me know when the pictures are done, ok?” Edward said, standing up.

“Brother, I know things are hard right now, but if you need a study buddy just let me know. I’d be happy to help!” Al chirped, flashing his brother a smile.

“Yeah. Sure, Al. I gotta go,” Edward replied distractedly as his phone began to vibrate. Ignoring it, Edward looked at his brother. “I’ll see ya soon.”

 

* * *

 

Alphonse frowned, crushing the small pill into a fine powder. He carefully placed a small amount in a vial, adding just enough of the specialized solution. Eyeing the vial, he carefully added its contents to the Gas Chromatography Mass Spectrometry (GC/MS). Turning the machine on, he scooped another portion of it laying it on slide and prepped it to be examined. Placing the slide into the microscope, he carefully stored the rest to give to Fletcher for cross-examination.

He didn’t like the lengths his brother had to go through for this case. It wasn’t like he didn't know what his brother being a cop would mean. But, this—he just didn’t know. Seeing his brother today had him worried; Edward had look a bit haggard. Al could see the bruises along his neck and even his wrists. Edward had pretended to chit chat with him using their code. Ed had told him not to worry, that it was nothing; just part of the job. Al wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t until he got back to the lab that he felt safe taking the small pills from the fake usb drive.

Shaking his head from his musings, he grasped the dial to the microscope peering through the lens. Cranking the dial, he jotted his findings down into his journal. Squinting, he zoomed to 400x, making a notation in his notes. Glancing up, he stared at his notes before cranking the dial back. He wrote his thoughts down furiously; his eyes widening as he began to connect the dots. Pulling his gloves off, he tossed them into the bin. Stretching his arms above his head, he scratched at his old scar on the nape of his neck. The cursed thing was irritated (again) and he could feel the heat of it against his neck. It was persistently demanding his attention lately. He growled, making his way to his inner office. Yanking his desk drawer open, he rummaged through it, looking for the specialized cream.

“Fudge Revel! Where in the cookies ‘n cream is it?” he muttered, yanking the second drawer open. With a sound of victory, Al held the bottle up in triumph. He tossed his shirt off, letting it fall on his oak desk. Popping the lid off, Al spread a liberal amount on his fingers before reaching his old scar with practiced ease. He moaned as the cream began to soothe the wretched thing.

“Hey Al, did you fin—” Fletcher asked stepping into Al’s inner office, pausing at the sight that greeted his eyes.

Al grinned at the adorable blush his long time friend was sporting from the sight of seeing him half-naked. Not being able to help himself, Al tossed Fletcher the bottle who caught it with ease.

“Mind helping me out?” Al inquired, turning his back towards the door. “It's been acting up lately”

“Um, yeah sure,” Fletcher meekly acquiesced, squirting the liquid on his hands. Standing on his tiptoes, he began to rub the cream into Al’s neck. Fletcher continued to work it in with small circles,  trying to ignore Al’s obscene noises of pleasure. Dazed, Fletcher let his fingers trail along the tribal black lines spread across Al’s shoulders below his odd scar. Al groaned; he was screwed. Who knew Fletcher had magical hands? Spinning around, Al braced his arms on his desk effectively pinning Fletcher under him.

“Such magical hands, I should’ve asked you sooner,” he whispered huskily into Fletcher’s ear. Fletcher closed his eyes, tilting his head towards Al’s. Al lightly pressed his lips against his friend’s before jumping away at the shrill noise of his alarm. Al blushed, running a tender hand along Fletcher’s jaw. “I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he admitted softly before walking back into his lab.

Washing his hands, Al steadily walked over to his computer, ignoring Fletcher standing in the doorway with his arms folded. Clicking his mouse, he scanned the results as surprise began to slowly spread across his face. Jerking his head up, Al stared straight at Fletcher with a grim expression. “We need to call Ed. He needs to know.”

 

* * *

 

Edward frowned, hunching his shoulders and stuffing his fingers into his pockets. Walking briskly to his loft near the University, he felt the flare of pain in his shoulders. Exhaling through the pain, he thank the gods that he was done at the University for the day. He had just spent hours in purgatory hell surrounding by idiotic students and bumbling professors. He could do their job better. He could have done that mock of an exam in his sleep. He raised his face to the sky in slight irritation, feeling the golden rays on his face. Soon, he would be in his loft and he could relax even if it was just a for a fleeting moment. At least, his detail from Mustang would be satisfied with his apparent coming and goings.

Kicking a few pebbles, he paused. A large gathering of people were huddled near the alley; they seemed to be trying to look at something. Looking sideways, he made a note of several police cars parked nearby. He casually walked into the throng of people, listening to their whispers of fear speaking volumes as they rose in intensity. He stood on his tiptoes and tried to get a better look. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, throwing him against something solid, making him lose his balance. Releasing an oomph, Edward pushed against the solid form only to have it curl against him more tightly like a snake.

“Oh, Edward! Fancy seeing you _here_ ,” his captor gushed, stopping his fist mid air with a crushing grip.

Edward growled at his captor, glaring at the overconfident man. “Richard,  Let. Me. Go. _Asshole!_ ”

“ _Ed-ward_ , aren’t we passed this ridiculousness?” Richard purred, placing both arms around him—almost like a lover’s embrace. “We’ve share so much together.”

Scowling, Edward pushed out of the man’s arms, stumbling as he regained his balance.

“Whatever, asshole. We didn’t share a fuckin’ thing. Leave me alone,” he muttered, turning to walk away from the infuriating man when a hand clasped over his wrist in a painful manner.

“Has he tamed you already, Edward? Have you laid under him and spread your legs?” Richard sneered, his voice low with hatred as he pulled him back with a tug.

“Let go, _Richard,_ ” Edward snapped, stumbling into Richard’s arms. “What happens between Mustang and I is not your concern. _Fuck Off!”_

“Oh? It isn’t? I’ve wondered if he broke you yet, Edward. You don’t understand what kind of man Mustang is. I wonder how he will do it. Will he make you beg? Will he hold your dear brother hostage? Or will you spread yourself for him like the whore you are,” Richard accused darkly, tightening his grip, lifting Edward’s chin with his fingers.

“Go fuck yourself with your diseased toothpick, Richard. Who I fuck is my business,” Edward scoffed, using his leg to hook under Richard’s right, forcing the man to fall backwards. Edward grinned at the sprawled man, rubbing his wrist.

“You’re playing with _Fire_ , Edward. You might just get burned.”

“See you around,” Edward called with a dismissive wave, hoping that his wrist wasn’t bruised again.

 

* * *

 

Roy smiled at the sight of his new lover. He couldn’t quite get enough of the gorgeous young blond. Putting the papers to the side, Mustang stood up, stretching his back with a pop. He took a step back, bracing himself as Edward jumped into his arms, snuggling into his chest. He arched an eyebrow and briefly wondered what brought it on. _Not that he was complaining._ Looking down, he lifted the blond’s chin with his finger and smiled tenderly at him.  “Edward, I’m surprised to see you here? Didn’t you have classes?” Roy asked, placing a soft kiss onto Edward’s lips.

“Ya, old man. But, I finished early,” Edward said, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I...uh... Got your text.”

“Oh? And what were your thoughts mio tesoro?” Roy asked, pulling Edward down onto his throne. The swirling of papers falling to the floor were ignored as he swiftly situated them to where Edward was straddling him. Smiling broadly, Roy kissed Edward tenderly, enjoying the feel of the man in his arms.

“I… uh... want to take things slow. I mean... I know...we’ve,” Edward stumbled, his face quickly becoming a wonderful cherry red.

“Fooled around. We’ve fooled around,” Mustang supplied, amusement in his voice.  “But, I’m not asking for sex, Edward. I’m a patient man. I’m asking to see you. To date you.”

Roy cupped his hopefully-soon-to-be-boyfriend’s face tenderly, placing a chaste kiss on the younger man’s lips. The fiery red of Edward’s face only highlighted the man’s natural beauty more to Roy. Placing his arms around Edward’s waist, he pulled him closer.

“Roy, I get that. But, it's not like you're just anybody. You’re _you_!” Edward sputtered, pushing off of Roy. Edward stood up and crossed over to the balcony. He leaned over it, letting his bangs fall into his eyes.

Roy shook his head and followed after him.  “Ed—” Mustang began, placing his hand over Edward’s wrist. He paused at the sharp intake of breath that escaped Edward. Narrowing his eyes, Roy snatched Edward’s wrist, exposing it to his perusal.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, Roy. Just someone got handsy. I took care of it. I can take care of myself, ya know?” Edward explained, snatching his hand back, glaring at Roy.

“Edward, mio tesoro, you’re precious to me. I want to try to see whatever this is and where it might lead us.” Mustang placed a lingering kiss on the inside of Edward’s purpling wrist. With a heavy sigh, he continued, “But, I have many enemies. What they would do to get their hands on you is unimaginable.”

“Roy, look at _me_ ,” Edward stated, gesturing to himself. “I’ve been through hell and survived. This was just a touchy son of a bitch. That’s it. You can’t go around maiming every poor bastard who touches me.”

“Edward, I can’t… I can’t promise something like that. I’m a dangerous man. They would do anything to use you against me,” Mustang said, pulling the blond against him, setting his head on top of Edward’s head, inhaling the scent of him.

“I know, Roy. And if it’s someone like that, then I can’t stop you. Let’s... Let’s just see where this goes,” Edward mumbled. He rested his head against Roy’s chest, wrapping his arms around him in comfort. Mustang closed his eyes, savoring the moment and committing it to his memory. Mustang smiled gently while Edward disentangled himself from him.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll...um... Call you tonight,” Edward stammered, pink dusting his cheeks in embarrassment.

Roy’s smile widened as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss on Edward’s lips.

“Maybe, we can do dinner at my place on Friday?” Mustang asked, tucking Edward’s hair behind his ear, enjoying the way he flushed at his words.

“Yeah. That sounds. Yeah, let's do that,” Edward smiled, reaching up to place a quick kiss on Mustang’s cheek. However, Mustang turned his head, forcing their lips to meet while pulling Edward into his embrace. Edward let himself get lost in Mustang’s kiss, moaning as Roy deepened it. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and cursed. “Fuck, Shit. I gotta go, I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yes, Friday,” Roy chuckled, watching his boyfriend spin on his heel, dashing down the stairway. Turning his attention back to his subordinates, he held his hand out expectantly as Hawkeye gave him a small burner phone. Flipping it open, Mustang pressed the keypad in quick succession before placing it against his ear. With a dismissive wave, he headed towards his office, shutting the door.

 

* * *

 

Roy snapped the burner phone shut. Apparently, this _Richard_ wanted to play. Roy rubbed a hand down his face dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. And there he was hoping for a damn nap. He shifted through the papers behind his mahogany desk, glancing at his monitors. Hawkeye wouldn’t be back for about another hour. Breda was getting everything ready for tonight. So that left Havoc.

Roy grinned. That would do _nicely._ Grabbing the papers, Roy grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Leaving the coat to hang off of his shoulders, Roy quickly went to find his third in command. He quirked his eyebrow at his blond subordinate, who was laying across the leather couch in the VIP section taking leisurely drags of his cigarette.

“Havoc,” Roy called, watching the man fumble and fall off of the couch.

“S’rry Boss, didn’t hear ya come in,” Havoc mumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he stood up.

“Got a job to take care of. Go get the car,” Roy ordered, shaking his head as he trailed after him. It was time to pay a little visit to this Richard… or should he say _Detective Williams_?

Sliding into the backseat of the black Rolls Royce Phantom, Roy smiled wickedly at the information staring at him from the file. Richard was just full of _surprises._ This he could use.

“Where to, boss?” Havoc called from the driver seat, flicking his cigarette out the window.  

“The Horse and Pony, Havoc. The madam has a guest waiting for us.”

 

* * *

 

Richard leered at the man in front of him, who was swaying his hips enticingly. He gulped the rest of his whiskey down, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Grinning, Richard stood up and gripped the man’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Let’s take this upstairs?” he rasped against the man’s ear.

The man tilted his head to the side before giving him a coy smile. “Madam, insists on payment first, sir,” the man purred, arching himself against his hardened front just right.

Cursing, Richard bit his lip. He could almost pretend. Yes, he would do. “Fine, C’mon,” he growled, pushing towards the madam.

Swiftly, he paid her the outrageous amount, slapping the bills on the counter. He watched impatiently while she informed her worker of the room, tapping his foot against the wooden floor. With a nod, the blond prostitute turned towards him and flashed him a wicked smile full of promised pleasure.

Smiling widely, Richard followed the worker through the establishment, stopping at a small room towards the back. Stepping inside, he swiftly started to undress eager to start his fantasy. Flopping onto the bed, he leered at the now naked worker who sauntered over to him. The worker smiled down at him brightly before kissing him thoroughly. Moaning, he pulled the man closer. The blond pushed him down, nibbling his way across his chest in a teasing manner. Richard let out a gasp of pleasure as a tongue trailed along his hip bone. Screwing his eyes shut, he pulled at the man, edging him closer to his straining shaft.

“Suck it, Edward,” he commanded, lost in his own fantasy.

“Well, I highly doubt that Edward would be so inclined to let his mouth anywhere near _that_ ,” a dark voice boomed from above him. Cracking an eye open, Richard stared straight in the face of the devil himself. Cursing, Richard flung himself to the opposite side of the room, reaching towards his gun.

Holding up a police standard issued glock, Mustang smiled ferally at him. “Looking for this?” the man asked, titling it to the side as he pulled the hammer back and aimed it between Richard’s eyes. “Aren’t you lucky that I promised the Madam that I wouldn’t make a mess? Get dressed.”

Richard’s eyes widened, feeling the dread fill his stomach. He glanced towards the blond worker pleading with his eyes to be saved. The worker just winked at him before leaving him with the devil incarnate. Richard eyed Mustang, glaring at the raised eyebrow begging for him to try it. He pulled on his clothes hurriedly.

“Really, Richard,” Mustang clucked, taking slow steps towards him. “You would think you would’ve been more careful. Havoc.”

Richard struggled as the other man leapt behind him, bending his arms behind him.

“Bring him,” Mustang ordered, heading out the door, delighting in the shuffle behind him as he lead them out to the back alley.

Roy looked down at the snot-nosed so-called police officer in front of him.  The man was nothing special: normal build, wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and a devil may care attitude. Looking down his nose, Roy frowned, folding his arms across his chest.

“Detective… So nice of you to be able to join us today,” he drawled, leaning against the brick wall behind him.

“Mustang—King of the fucking Underworld. How wonderful of you to grace me with your _benevolent presence_ ,” Richard snapped, his words dripping with venom, swinging his arms free.  “I was a bit busy. Oh, what do I owe to the _pleasure_ of the visit?” He bowed mockingly towards the man.

“It is benevolent of me. Considering,” Roy paused dramatically, “you keep touching what is mine, _De-tec-tive._ ”

Mustang watched amused as Havoc kicked Richard’s knees, forcing them to buckle. Richard’s howl of pain felt like icing on the cake. People should just stop touching what belong to him; they might _live_ longer.

Pulling his .45 from the back of his shirt, Roy studied it. He shifted it from one hand to the next, the light reflecting off the barrel. He ignored the Detective’s fumbling with Havoc, knowing his man would do what he needed.

Sighing heavily, Roy took measured steps towards the man in front of him. This is how this man should always look: kneeled in front of him, a hand gripped tightly on his shoulder while the other hand pulled his head back roughly by the hair. Mustang let his gaze travel down the man, enjoying the fear sweating off of him. _Really,_ this was a better improvement.

Mustang clucked his tongue, giving another heavy sigh. “Richard...Richard...May I call you that? After all, we have been through so much _together_.”

“Motherfucker, I would rath—”

“Now, I didn’t give you permission to speak, _De-tec-tive_ ,” Mustang began, tilting the silver barrel of his revolver towards the sky. “It’s rude to interrupt. They really should’ve taught you some manners.”

Releasing the safety, Mustang cocked the hammer back, relishing in the echo against the alley walls. Mustang grinned, turning towards the Detective. He slowly closed the distance between them and nudged the man’s lips apart with the barrel. He raised his eyebrow at the Detective’s refusal to open up.

“Open wide, Detective. You know how, it's not like you haven’t been on your knees before,” Mustang cooed, forcing the barrel past his lips while Havoc applied crushing pressure to the man’s calf. Richard gasped in pain, tears flowing from his eyes, allowing the barrel to finish sliding in.

“That's it. Now, you’re been a good boy, Detective,” Mustang praised, turning the gun, letting it slide against the man’s tongue. Mustang loomed over the pathetic excuse for a Detective, enjoying the look of terror. “My men did some digging, Detective. You’re not what you seem. Homicide is just a cover for you. It’s not your real assignment. No. _Not. At. All._ ”

Mustang trailed his fingers along the man’s cheek lightly, punctuating each word with a hard slap. He watched as tears rolled down the man’s face, his situation becoming very apparent. Mustang snapped his fingers, cueing Havoc to stomp on the man’s other calf, forcing a howl of pain. Mustang pushed the gun in deeper, ignoring the Detective’s choking noises.

“Why they picked you is beyond me. You don’t have the balls for it,” Mustang whispered darkly, squeezing the trigger lightly. “Have they branded you, yet? No. Not yet. You’re just a pawn to them. I could pull the trigger right now and no one would care.” Mustang narrowed his eyes, his face twisting in disgust as the smell of urine permeated the air.

“You disgust me, you sorry waste of a human. This is why children shouldn’t play adult games,” Mustang spat, letting the gun fall from the Detective's mouth. He ignored the niggling in the back of his mind screaming “What about Edward?”

Taking a cloth from Havoc, he quietly cleaned the barrel, waiting patiently for the Detective to recover his breath. Placing the gun back into the the holster against his back, Roy glared down at the worthless being kneeling in his own urine.

“Stay away from him, Detective. This is your only warning.”

“Fuck you, Mustang. Has he spread himself for you? Have you seen his pretty pink hole? I have and it was fuckin’ delicious,” Richard spat, his jealousy overriding his common sense.

Roy loomed over him, grabbing the detective's face, bringing it closer to his. “You are out of your league, Detective. Edward is mine,” Mustang hissed, releasing the detective to Havoc’s tender loving care. With a nod, Mustang turned around enjoying the Detective’s screams. Pausing, Roy turn towards the Detective’s shouts, with an amused look.

“He...He’s not ...what ..the fuck… you think he is!”

“I know,” Mustang murmured before walking towards the awaiting car. Settling himself inside, he carefully toed off his shoes, noting the ruined leather. It was worth it. He removed their pawn from the game. It was her turn, now.

 

* * *

 

Edward sighed as pulled his jacket closer. He had received Al’s message. Now, he was more confused. The new evidence—it just didn't make any sense. He needed to sort through this, but...Mustang.

He needed to go to his real apartment. It was his only choice. He would tell Mustang...something...

Scowling, he veered to the left instead of going right. Glancing around, he noticed the shops beginning to close up as night settled in. No one wanted to be caught  too far after dark, unless you were up to no good, in this part of town. Stepping carefully, he navigated his way through the streets, ignoring the detail behind him. Taking his cell phone from his pocket, he swiped at the screen and quickly typed a text to Mustang telling him that he was gonna visit his brother on the other side of town and he would see him tomorrow. Glancing side to side, he crossed the street, pulling his bag closer to his body. He heard the slight bing of his phone. He glanced down and grinned at the kissy face emoji next to the be careful. Shaking his head, he began his trek towards his apartment, weaving an intricate route for Mustang's men to follow.

After walking around town for about twenty minutes, Edward finally turned onto their street. Sighing, he jogged the rest of the way, punching in the key code. He really wanted to get out of this damn wind. He quickly walked up the staircase, wondering if Al got his message. Shaking his head, he glanced backwards before heading towards the right door. Sighing, he placed his key into the lock and headed inside. He carefully placed his bag next to the door and headed into the apartment, dragging out all of their evidence out of the spare room. He placed each container near the table before settling down with a hot cup of tea.

Edward sighed as he sat at the table sipping his tea.  He needed to figure out his next move and fast. Mustang trusted him, which was good wasn’t it? But for some reason, it didn’t feel that way. None of this was making sense. He had barely escaped Mustang’s pursuits again begging off because of school. He knew he was supposed to gain intelligence using any means necessary, but...yeah. He didn’t want to go there. That would blur the lines even more.

Glancing at his phone, he read the text message from his brother. It was coded, their old code which was odd. Alphonse must’ve had a good reason to use such a thing. His eyes widened as he read it looking at it disbelieving. That couldn’t be right, could it?

Grabbing the nearby stack of files, Edward spread them across the table. He quickly thumbed through them and tacked them up onto the wall.  None of this was making any damn sense. Edward raked his fingers through his hair, pulling at his hair tie on his wrist. He quickly folded his hair into a messy bun, chewing on a pencil. He quickly began to place each trace of evidence in order, tacking them all over his living room wall. Spreading more papers out across the table, he skimmed through them, finding the analysis reports. He glared at the offending pieces of paper, pacing back and forth.

 

* * *

 

There was a stillness in the air as if even the birds were waiting. It hung oppressively, laying a thick blanket of silence over the darkened corners of the alley. Alphonse hunched his shoulders, tightening his hold on his pack and hoisted the take out boxes into his arms at a better angle. He started to walk faster. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. He was aware of the light feet shuffling behind him.  

Spotting his apartment complex, Al broke into a light sprint. He could hear the footsteps getting closer. Cursing, he clutched his belongings closer, breaking into a run. Skidding, he rounded the corner. Ignoring the sweat dripping down his face, he ran towards the apartment front doors. Keying in the code quickly, Alphonse grasped opened the door, slamming it closed behind him.

Breathing heavily, he leaned against the door. He waited for what felt like an eternity as shadows passed by the door. _Just what the fudge tracks was going on?_ Wiping his sweat on his sleeve, he quietly walked towards his apartment. Ed didn’t need to know about that. It was probably nothing, right?

Alphonse walked up the stairs, two steps at a time, keeping aware of his surroundings. He listened to the hum of the complex, hoping he wouldn’t hear anything out the ordinary. It might have been his imagination. Nothing to worry over.

Taking a deep breath, Alphonse plastered a smile on his face and turned the key to his apartment. Carefully turning around, he locked the apartment door with a heavy sigh. He could hear Edward’s mutterings and the wisps of paper being shuffled. He quietly walked into the living and greeted his brother who hummed in response.

Alphonse shook his head, noting the disarray of his house. Papers were stacked everywhere with case files. Numerous files were tacked onto the wall, grouped in manners that probably only Edward understood. It was just like his brother. With a small smile, Alphonse quietly padded through, heading towards the kitchen.  

He carefully placed each container onto the counter, inhaling deeply the lovely aroma of double sauteed pork. Quietly, Al walked to his brother and handed him his dinner. He watched Ed blink a few times before looking sheepish.

“Hey, Al. When did you get in?” Edward asked, inhaling the delicious aroma.

Al smiled, shaking his head. “Just a bit ago, Ed. What’s all this?”

“It's not adding up, Al. I’m missing something. Something Big. I can feel it,” Edward sighed, taking a huge bite full of his meal.

Al glanced at the wall, studying it. Ignoring Edward’s slurping noses, he walked down the path of his brother’s madness. Stopping in front of one of the cases, Al pulled it off the wall. “Brother, this…”Al began, his face scrunched in confusion.

Edward placed his take out on the table and walked over to his brother. “What is it, Al?” he asked, taking the paper from him.

Edward re-read the the lines, frowning. This case sounded familiar, but how? Going over to the table, he shuffled through the papers laying on the top. With a quick ‘Ah ha’, he grabbed the report, his hands shaking.

“Ed, this,” Al began, swallowing thickly. He handed the paper over, nodding at his brother’s sharp intake of air.

Edward stared at the paper, speechless. “Are you sure, Al?” Edward hurried towards the table, shifting through the other files. But, the evidence was still staring him straight in the face. Taking a fortifying breath, Ed looked at his brother. “Guess, it's time I visit teacher, huh?”

 

* * *

 

Roy glanced around the club, enjoying the thrum of the music from below them. It was a busy night. He hummed, stretching his gloves around his fingers with a snap. Tilting his head to the side, Roy cradle his cheek within the palm of his hand.

“Sir, the Senator is here.”

“Send him in,” Roy replied in a bored tone. The echoing clack of the Senator’s no doubt-expensive Oxford’s against the marble floor forced a silence around them. The man always had a penchant for being a little bit dramatic.

“Mustang,” the Senator greeted, placing his hand on his hip, jutting it outwards.

Roy eyed the man in front of him, curling his distaste inwards. The Senator was a man of extravaganza taste: swathed in pristine expensive clothing, his jet black hair slicked back with enough oil to grease an engine. The man screamed money. But his eyes spoke volumes.

He was not a man to trifle with.

“Senator Kimblee, what do I owe this pleasure?” Roy asked, snapping his fingers. A flurry of his pets came forwards, taking the Senator’s jacket and gloves. Roy smirked while his pets settled his ‘guest’ in the fashion expected of the Inferno. He waited patiently for his redheaded pet to place a scotch in each of their hands. Grasping his scotch, Mustang held it up in a silent toast. Taking a sip, he patiently waited for Kimblee to explain himself.

With a smack of his lips, Kimblee gave a wolfish grin. “Always hospitable, Mustang,” Kimblee drawled, gesturing to the pets perched on the arms of Kimblee’s leather chair.  “Things are getting heated for you I hear.”

“When aren't they?” Mustang countered.

“Well, I must decide if it's still worth my while for our ‘association’,” Kimblee drawled, his lips curling slightly.

“Kimblee, are you insulting The King of the Underworld while you enjoy his gracious hospitality?” the voice of his partner injected, sauntering towards him, his face twisted in open hatred.

“Yao, I don’t remember inviting you into this conversation,” Kimblee sneered, staring into his now empty glass with a frown.

“As a connoisseur of fine things, I invited myself Kimblee. You would do well to remember how you got where you are today,” Yao warned, settling himself against a nearby column, his hand twitching against his leg.

“So should you, Yao,” Kimblee quipped.

“Enough, Yao. Kimblee, you benefit greatly from our partnership,” Mustang began, setting his glass upon a pet’s back. “However, you’ve not held up your end of the bargain. We’re playing a deadly game...Mistakes could be costly.”

“Mustang…” Kimblee started, swallowing thickly. “What you asked for is not easy to get.”

“Oh? But, you still partake in my hospitality— _every night_. I wonder how much that is?” Mustang challenged, spreading his arms across his throne, staring intently at the Senator. “Hawkeye?”

“This week alone, the Senator has accrued a debt of sixteen million cenz,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Mustang stared unamused at the worthless Senator. He watched silently as Yao placed his hands on the Senator’s shoulders.

“I wonder how you will pay much a sustainable amount of money, Senator,” Yao sing-songed, applying pressure. “You were so _greedy_.”

Kimblee’s booming laughter echoed throughout the room, before he leaned forwards, locking his eyes with the King of the Underworld.

“Alright Mustang, I understand,” Kimblee acknowledged, nodding his head. “I will bring you what you want. Probably be best. Bradley’s plans are moving forwards. Now... if you'll excuse me.”

Kimblee swatted at Yao’s hands, turning towards the pets with a dashing smile. “Ladies? Shall we?”

Mustang shook his head and snapped his fingers. “Not until you uphold your part, Kimblee. Now get out,” Mustang ordered, twirling his lighter.

Nodding towards Breda, Mustang turned his attention back to his scotch. Taking a sip, he listened to Kimblee's indignant sputtering as he was ‘assisted’ out. Sipping his scotch, Roy enjoyed the burn as it work its way down his throat. He raised an eyebrow at Yao who plopped himself into Kimblee’s spot. Yao ignored him, favoring to gather two blond girls into his lap, nibbling on their throat.

“What is it, Yao?”

“Nothing. _Oh! Great King!_ Just wondering why you are using him,” Yao said nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow in return.

“Yao, you know why. Don’t play stupid. You know what the endgame is.”

“And your sweet _Ed-ward_ , how does he play into this?” Yao mocked, licking the throat of the smaller pet.

“None of your concern. Just do your part,” Mustang replied coldly. Mustang stood up, walking over to the balcony in deep thought. He nearly missed Yao’s soft reply, “as long as you do yours.”

 

* * *

 

She glared at her phone, pursing her lips. That _idiot._ She didn’t know why Envy had used him. Probably boredom. She would gut him herself if he messed up their plans. Everything was already in motion. With a huff, she threw a knife at the door, embedding it into the wood.

“Now Lust, no need to be angry. What did that poor little ole door ever do to you?”

“I missed. It was meant for you, Envy. Your fuck up, you need to deal with it,” Lust commanded, thrusting her phone at him. “I want it dealt with swiftly. No loose ends, Envy.” Lust narrowed her eyes, tapping her fingers against her desk.

Envy swallowed, knowing that look before grinning. “I’ll deal with,” he nodded, turning to leave.

“Quietly, Envy. Unless you want to deal with Wrath,” Lust ordered, enjoying Envy’s discomfort. Standing up, she sauntered over to the door frame, pulling the knife from it.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I said I’ll do it. No need to evolve that ass wipe,” Envy said, slamming the door behind him.

Lust tossed the knife up into the air, catching it on its descent. Maybe... it wasn’t a complete fuck up. Hmmm, they would just have to wait and see. If he didn’t deal with it, then Gluttony would love to play. _Yes_ , that would do nicely.

 

* * *

 

Edward smiled as he placed the steaming bowl of stew onto the table. This was their first ‘date night’. He blushed at the thought. It was a perfect night for it anyway; it was raining outside. Perfect weather to just relax and enjoy each other’s company. Added with the smell of homemade soup: the penthouse felt cozy... almost normal.  Shaking his head, Edward made his way through Roy’s place.

Grazing his fingertips along the wall, Edward catalogued the art tastefully decorating the walls. Each piece placed with meticulous precision highlighted the penthouse’s natural aesthetics. Edward briefly wondered ‘why wasn’t there a single photo was displayed?’’ as he chewed on his bottom lip. Stopping outside of Mustang’s office, Edward leaned against the doorway, watching the man work. Mustang was bent over a desk scribbling, his elegant brows furrowed in concentration.

“Hey soup’s on,” he called softly.

Blinking, Mustang looked up before genuinely smiling at his young boyfriend. “Come here,” he commanded, patting his legs.

Edward slowly walked over to him, swaying his hips just a bit. Biting his lip, Edward carefully straddled Mustang’s lap, placing his arms around the man’s neck. Staring at the intent gaze of his ‘boyfriend’, Edward felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

“It's gonna get cold if we don't go eat it soon. And c’mon, it's beef stew,” he said breathily.

“We can always reheat it. You take such good care of me, Edward. I’m going to miss you while you visit your grandmother,” Mustang whispered, leaning his forehead against Edward’s, letting his hands settle on the man’s thighs, lightly drawing circles with his fingertips.

“Yeah, well it's just for a week or so. I’ll be back before you know it, old man,” Edward teased, his breath ghosting over Roy’s lips. “Mmmm, but I won’t be able to do this.”  

Edward felt his breath hitch as Mustang closed the gap between them, tenderly kissing him. Edward returned the kiss while Mustang’s strong arms circled around his waist, pulling him closer. Ending the kiss, Edward snuggled into Mustang’s chest contently, feeling the man’s chin resting on his head. He knew he needed to be careful, but moments like these made him wonder. There was so much going on here that didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense.

“Cenz for your thought?” Roy murmured, lifting Edward’s chin up with his finger.

“Just thinking about school and that delicious ass stew that I made,” Edward quipped, sliding off his ‘boyfriend’s’ lap. “C’mon, you need to eat Roy. Work can wait.”

Edward watched Mustang stand up, stretching his arms. He would be a fool not to notice the lovely ride up of his shirt, exposing Mustang’s perfect skin. Looking up, he noticed Mustang’s wolfish grin and shook his head, heading out the door.

“ _Why Edward_ did you like something you see?” Mustang questioned, following after him.

“No jackass. I’m hungry,” Edward huffed, ducking his head as he made his way back to the dining room. The pittering of the rain outside did nothing to lessen their tension as Mustang grabbed his wrist, spinning him against the wall.

“Sweet Edward, why are you hiding from me?” Mustang muttered before capturing his boyfriend’s lips in a heated kiss.

Moaning, Edward realized one dangerous thing… He was so fuckin’ screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [ Tumblr. ](https://stargazerlilith.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the wait is over, another chapter is here. Sorry for the longer wait. My surgery took an unexpected turn and I had some very dangerous complications. But, I'm better now. Well, mostly. Thank you to everyone who has commented or kudo'd. I love them and they make it so worth it. Happy Reading!

* * *

 

Edward leaned his head against the train window. Gazing at the countryside passing him by, he let out a heavy sigh. It was almost refreshing being able to get a way just for a little while. Taking a breath, he tried not to think about the last time he saw Roy...er...Mustang.  He still couldn’t believe that he had agreed to actually date the bastard.

And well, it felt natural.

Like they had been doing this all their lives.

Mustang was trusting him more and Edward was slowly giving more of himself away.  He kept telling himself that it was for the case—the case that had them running in circles. Just what was the link? Shaking his head, Edward pinched the bridge to his nose in frustration. He jerked forward as the train screeched to a stop. Grabbing his pack, he slung it over his shoulder. It was time to visit home and maybe get some answers.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse grinned. Rolling over, he slung his arm around the small body next to him. Grinning devilishly, he began to place small open mouthed kisses on the exposed neck of his guest, earning small whispered moans. Al circled his arms around the firm body of his guest and drew them closer.

“Al.”

“Morning, gorgeous, we gotta get ready for work soon,” Al whispered against his guest’s lips with a soft smile. Maneuvering himself to lie on top, Alphonse leaned down, placing his lips against the warm pliant ones below him. Deepening the kiss at his partner's gasp, Alphonse trailed his fingers downwards, searching for his prize. He moaned as his lover nipped at his lips before wrapping his legs against him.

Grasping his prize, Alphonse caressed the straining erection before gathering the moisture from the tip. In one swift movement, he started to pump his fist, enjoying the way his partner was quivering below him.

“Al,” his lover panted, reaching up to place a kiss on any exposed skin. “Work?”

Alphonse groaned, enjoying his blond lover’s blunt teeth against his neck.

“Can wait Fletcher, love. Let me take care of you,” Al murmured, letting his hand fall towards his lover’s entrance. He nipped at his lover’s neck, grasping the lube on the nightstand. Using his other hand, he drizzled a generous amount on his fingers. He began to suck in earnest, leaving small welts behind. Al teasingly let his finger trace the small hole before slowly pushing it in. Twisting his hand, he began to work it in and out;  the noises coming from his lover sent shocks of pleasure down his spine. He licked his way to his lover’s lips and greedily swallowed all of Fletcher’s moans before adding another finger. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched the beautiful blond below him. For once, he was thankful of not having his brother home. Withdrawing his fingers, Alphonse took a moment to enjoy the sight of Fletcher spread beneath him: beautiful grey eyes blown wide with lust; blond hair spiking in every direction; wantonly displayed in front him. Taking his own length,  Alphonse began to apply lube stroking up and down at a slow pace, enjoying the way Fletcher watched his hand.

 _“Al!”_ whined Fletcher, licking his lips in anticipation.

“Yes, love?” Alphonse purred, slowing his strokes.

“Please! I need—” the younger man moaned, bucking his hips upwards in frustration.

Alphonse grinned and started to reply when the shrill noise of their phones interrupted. _Just fuck!_ What a perfect way to ruin his morning!

Ignoring the calls, Alphonse leaned back down and kissed Fletcher deeply, nibbling his way into the blond’s mouth. His lover moaned, wrapping his arms around him before sucking on his bottom lip in retaliation. Al shifted, nudging his erection against his lover’s entrance teasingly. Fletcher arched against him, allowing him to trace his way down the nape of his lover’s throat.

“Al, please!”

“Did you want something, Fletcher?” Alphonse teased, licking the shell of his lover’s ear.

“ _Al...I need….please,”_ his lover groaned in frustration, clenching his eyes shut and thrusting himself against his length.

Grinning, Alphonse hiked up his lover’s legs over his shoulders before thrusting himself in slowly. Pulling back slightly, he grabbed Fletcher’s hips before thrusting himself in.  Moaning, he leaned over his lover, capturing his lips in a burning kiss. Slowly, he began to thrust in and out, swallowing his lover’s cries. Pulling away just enough to ghost his lips against his lover's, Al arched his eyebrow at his lover’s amused expression.   

“Al, Work,” Fletcher murmured across his lips, raising an eyebrow at the handsome man above him.

Alphonse leaned back, pulling out and leaving only the tip before snapping his hips forwards, hitting his lover’s prostate. Fletcher’s cries of pleasure as he arched off the mattress forced him to repeat the action once...twice more. Hovering over the younger man, Al slowed his thrusts down, nibbling on the throat exposed to him.

“It can wait—” Al breathed, his hot breath ghosting over Fletcher’s skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The shrill noise of his phone sounded throughout the room, leaving him to stare in disbelief at the all knowing smile of the small man below him.

Growling, Alphonse grabbed his phone, swiping the green phone button to answer.  “This better,” Alphonse began, his brow knotting as he continued to listen. “Right be there in five.”

Alphonse looked down at his lover, his eyes softening. He cupped Fletcher’s cheek lovingly before releasing a heavy sigh.  “Rain check?”

“Always.”

 

* * *

 

Edward blocked the leg flying at him. Ducking, Edward swept his left leg under his assailant. Grunting, he crouched before flipping himself backwards.

“You’re getting soft, Edward! I know I taught you better than that!” his assailant taunted.

Edward dodged to the right, narrowingly missing the left hook aimed for his face.

“Heh. How’d an old housewife like you even know?” he growled, jumping over the undersweep. Flipping backwards, Edward skidded to halt. He eyed his assailant who stood above him with her arms folded.

Grinning, he dusted himself off, grabbing her proffered hand. “Hey, Teacher.”

“Edward, it's nice to see you, but I’ve a feeling this isn’t a simple visit home,” his teacher asked, eyeing the boy.

Edward sighed. There was never any fooling her. “Sig, home?” he asked, doggedly ignoring her question.

His teacher nodded before turning on her heel, heading into the quaint butcher shop. Following closely behind her, Edward stepped into his second home; the familiarity of it hit him like a wave in the ocean.

Sig, the burly butcher, was cutting up the newest shipment of beef that had arrived that morning while the workers buzzed around him. Giving the man a nod, Edward followed his teacher to the back room; it was sparse save for a few bits of furniture here and there. But it was home, and that was all that mattered. Settling himself down on the couch, Edward sighed. He waited as his teacher busied herself with making her customary ‘interrogation’ tea. He accepted the cup without pause, taking a delicate sip.

“Izumi, Teacher, this case—it has a connection,” he began, grabbing his hand, trying to stop the trembling.

Placing her hand on top of his, Izumi gave Ed a pointed look before setting the tea on top of the table. Gently, she removed his automail hand and laced her fingers with his. Pressing her lips into a thin line and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

Edward took a deep breath, staring at their clasped hands. “I need you to look at the file...as Detective Curtis. Your name is on some of the older murders and they match this M.O. I need to know what you know. It seems there might be a connection...to mom.”

Izumi closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She grabbed the files from him and began to flick through them. Peering over the files, she studied her once student with a critical eye. It seemed like yesterday that he was just a little boy, bleeding heavily as he clutched his unconscious brother. She had decided right then and there—those boys would be under her protection. No one would never hurt them again.

But, he wasn’t a little boy anymore. No, he had grown into a man—a good one at that who’s always ready to do the right thing. Maybe she had raised him too well. She blinked back her tears, clearing her throat.

“Edward, are you sure?”

“Yes, Teacher. Here’s the latest case. If you ignore the drugs, the lacerations—” Edward paused taking a deep breath. “The jigsaw knife marks match...my own.”

Izumi paled. Standing up abruptly, she walked to the closet near the hall. Pulling it open, she grabbed two white boxes. Lifting them up with a cough, she walked over to Edward, placing them by his feet.

“Edward, I kept these when I left the force. They’re the copies of your mother’s murder and all the evidence we found,” she said softly, pulling the lid off the boxes. Shifting through the manila folders, she pulled out the autopsy of report of Trisha Elric. Setting it down to the side, she pulled out two more folders labeled with Edward and Alphonse’s names. Placing them together, she handed them to Edward. “This is everything, official and unofficial regarding that night.”

“Teacher,” Edward began, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You n’ver told me why you left the force. You always told me to be a good cop. We are for the people. One is all and all is one. But, you left. _Why?_ ”

“I left Edward because... of the corruption. I’d noticed things being swept under the rug. Your mother’s murder for one. It was gruesome and a shock to this small town, but Central wouldn’t come investigate. Claimed it appeared to be a robbery gone wrong,” Izumi whispered, staring out the window. Turning towards Edward, her eyes flashed in determination, before continuing, “I had you boys to think about. Too many questions, people went missing. Pinako couldn’t care for you. She did everything she can to ensure you and Al got every medical advancement, but she had Winry already. I had to think about my sweet boys. I didn’t want anything happening to you.” Izumi wiped at her eyes, leaning against the strong arms of her son as he wrapped his arm around her in comfort. Patting his arm, she sighed. “Edward, please be careful. If anything happened to you or to Al. I don’t know what you’re mixed up in…”

Edward stared at the woman who had taken them in and raised them. She had refused to let him give up after countless surgeries. Trained him to help him endure the pain and held him close after each nightmare that left him shaking in his sheets.  The woman who had whispered that his brother would wake up never giving up hope as years passed. And when he did, she helped him the way she did him. They owed her everything.

Placing a kiss to her temple, Edward realised he couldn’t tell her. It would put her at risk. He could feel it and he couldn’t afford to lose her. “Of course, Mom. What’s Dad cookin’ tonight?” he asked brightly, walking into the kitchen. “I’m starving. Hey Sig, What’s for dinner?”

Izumi stared after him with a soft smile. She loved it when her called her mom, but it only meant… Please, to whatever gods there are, keep her boys safe she prayed, heading after Edward . She laughed outright as her loving husband slapped their son’s hands as he tried to sneak some food.

 

* * *

 

Edward stared at the grey grave marker amongst the wildflowers. Kneeling down gently, he placed a bouquet of white roses against it, his eyes skimming over the simple words: Trisha Elric; Loving Mother; Born Sept. 25th, 1979; Died Oct. 3rd, 2005. Standing up, he stuffed his hands into his jeans, shaking his head.

He had made a promise to Al...to her. He would find her killer--the man that forever changed their lives.

He would never forget that night. Staring up at the sky, Edward let his tears fall, cascading down his face.

_Edward scrambled out of bed, hearing his mother shout. Tiptoeing down the hall, he peered around the corner, trembling with fear at what he saw. A big man, bigger than Edward had ever seen was choking his mother while laughing. Edward balled up his fist. He was the man of this house, it was his duty to protect her. He ran charging at the intruder, his mother’s gasping ringing in his ears._

_“Let her go,” he screamed, pummeling his fists against the man’s stomach. The man blinked and looked down at him. Flinging his mother like a rag doll, he picked up Edward by the collar and hoisted him up. Edward glared at the attacker, kicking wildly._

_“They didn’t tell me that there was children...here. What a pain,” the man said slowly, shaking his head back and forth. “No matter. They said I could play.”_

_The man shrugged before throwing Edward against the wall hard. The thump of his skull hitting the drywall echoed throughout the house. Edward sat there dazedly blinking away the fog in his vision. He turned his head after hearing the whispered “Brother.”_

_Damnit, Al. Scrambling to his feet, Edward tried to warn his brother away as the man produced a horrible looking knife; the blade glinted in the moonlight. The man slowly began to advanced towards their mother, who was moaning groggily._

_Edward watched in horror as his baby brother charged at the man, only to be stabbed in his side. The blade slicing through his baby brother with a sickening squelch while his blood spurted across the wall. His brother screams of pain echoed into his heart._

_Their attacker picked up his baby brother and flung him into the T.V. across the room, the crash shaking the walls around them. His brother's skull cracked against the floor with a sickening thud, which sent jolts of fear down his spine. Screaming, Edward rushed towards the man, beating him with his fist, only to be kicked forcefully backwards._

_His attacker’s maniacal glee at their struggle filled him with blinding rage as he gritted through the jarring pain and pushed himself up. Stumbling, Edward grabbed the nearest object, not caring what it was. His mother’s painful screams seared through his heart as she babbled for their attacker to kill her but spare her babies.  Ignoring the blood marring his vision as it dripped down his face, Edward charged towards his assailant, smashing the object across the man’s back. Their attacker grabbed him by his neck, his meaty hands trying to crush his windpipe while he gleefully laughed. His mother’s screams and pleas filled the room._

_“Feisty little beast you are. What a pain. I was promised to play...” his attacker sneered, throwing him into the ground hard and forcing his back to bow. Edward howled in pain as his arm shattered in multiple places._

_Screaming from the pain, Edward curled up into himself, breathing harshly and fighting to stay conscious. He needed to….He needed to save his mother! Standing back up wearily, he watched horrified as the man grinned at him wickedly before slicing into his mother’s mouth with deadly precision. Edward’s rage bubbled out of him, half screaming and sobbing, he charged wildly at the man again, desperately trying to kick the blade away._

_“Leave us alone! What’d we do to you? Why ...Why...” he cried, hearing his mother’s dying breaths as the man pinned him to ground, applying pressure to his leg and snapping it like a twig. Howling from the pain, Edward pleaded and begged, his voice going hoarse from his cries._

_He looked towards his mother’s beautiful brown eyes as they stared at him wide and horrified. Reaching towards his mother, he crawled his way towards her, pulling his body on top of hers. He could faintly hear his brother’s ragged breaths in the distance. He buried his face into his mother’s blouse, ignoring the blood staining his face._

_“So sorry ...so sorry momma, I couldn’t,” he sobbed as blood pooled around him. Edward stilled, his mother’s fingers combing through his hair. “Edward,” she breathed before closing her eyes, her face twisted in pain._

_“No no no no, mamma no,” he cried, placing his hands on her cold body shaking her.  The heavy footsteps behind them echoed against their wooden floor. He stiffened as he felt a blade dragged across his back leaving a thin line of blood to well._

_“Little feisty thing,” the man cooed, dumping his brother next to him._

_He could barely hear his brother’s ragged breaths as his limp body settled onto the floor. Frozen in place, Edward stared horrified as the man started to carve into his brother’s neck. Inhuman screams reached Edward’s ears, not realising that they were his own. With strength not his own, Edward screamed his fury. He lurched at the man, scratching wildly and knocking their assailant backwards in surprise. Smacking his already broken hand against the man, Edward cried out as the man grabbed it in a death grip and crushed it._

_“You want to play? Good... I need a new play toy,” the man chuckled, throwing him onto the floor roughly. Fighting wildly, Edward scratched and kicked his attacker, his mind devoid of anything but survival. The man’s evil laughter reached into his bones as if this was some great game. The man pinned him down, setting his heavy weight against his small stomach. Edward screamed when the sharp blade started to saw into his arm, darkness swimming in his vision. He gurgled, throwing up anything in his stomach as the pain curled throughout his body._

_Gasping, Edward clenched his eyes shut, feeling his body giving up. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t. Al needed him, this man…. Edward sobbed, screaming broken pleas as the man finished slicing through his arm, holding it up for him to see._

_“I told ya, I wanna play. What a pain. No falling asleep now, feisty little beast,” his attacker grinned manically. Edward felt his vision swim as his blood soaking through his night clothes. He threw up bile as searing hot pain coursed through him while his attacker stabbed him in his crushed leg._

_“Why...Why,” he whispered brokenly, reaching towards his baby brother as the man gleefully hacked away at his skin. The last conscious thing Edward remembered was the sounds of sirens entirely too late._

Edward fell to the ground, sobbing brokenly as the memories overtook him. Beating the ground, Edward sobbed out his pain over the last ten years. He ignored the rain as it soaked him to the bone, knowing only his grief was lost in a sea of memories. Looking up towards his mother’s small grave, he felt grim determination bubble up into him. Touching the white roses against the grave, Edward laid there vowing to keep his promise no matter the cost.

 

* * *

 

He sneezed. Edward rubbed his nose with a tissue, ignoring his teacher’s blatant stare of disapproval. Coughing, he huddled around the blanket seeking its warmth.

“Edward,” his teacher started.

“I know, I know. But I just needed to—” Edward whispered, hanging his head and letting his bangs fall into his eyes.

“I know, Ed. I know. I just wish you took better care of self, son,” Izumi said calmly, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “Now, drink up. Don’t make me force feed you runt.”

Edward gave a hoarse laugh, shaking his head and accepting the warm liquid. Taking small sips, Edward sighed as the warm liquid started to warm the chill in his bones. Looking up, he locked gazes with his teacher, his own determination shining through. “Teacher—”

“I know, Ed. When are you going back?” she asked softly.

“Tomorrow, first thing.”

“Get some rest then,” Izumi whispered, shutting the door behind her. She silently prayed that he would be safe.    

 

* * *

 

Edward glanced at his phone for the millionth time, running a hand through his hair. Swearing, he balled his fist until his knuckles turned white. Pocketing the phone, Edward shielded his eyes against the shining sun before making his way around the people in the train station. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he sidestepped the families that were greeting their loved ones.

He had purposefully hid what time he was coming back. He had wanted to check into a few things, first. But apparently, her highness, the Captain, needed him now. _Just fuck._ Didn’t she realize how dangerous that was?

 

* * *

 

Edward raised an eyebrow as he stood in front of the Captain. She had yet to acknowledge him, continuing to write furiously on the paper before her. The scratches into the paper echoed throughout the room.

“Report, Elric,” Captain Himo barked at him, her mauve eyes narrowing at him.

“As commanded, I have infiltrated Mustang’s inner circle. His penchant for blonds working in my favour. Mustang is beginning to—”

“Beginning Elric? You should’ve had him by now,” Himo began, tapping her long nails against the wood of her desk. “While you’ve been playing lover-boy, people have been dying. The bodies are piling up, Elric. Do you or do you not have what we need?”

“Captain, respectfully, this type of investigation takes time. Mustang is a paranoid man. He doesn’t trust lightly,” Edward said calmly, his back ramrod straight, straining from the tension.

“Time,” Himo paused, shuffling through the paperwork, letting the minutes tick by painfully so. Picking up a manilla folder, she pushed it toward the Detective, folding her hands below her chin. “Take at look, Detective,” she paused, gesturing towards the file. “Time, Elric, we’re running out of.”

Edward walked forwards stiffly. His instincts screaming at him. Picking up the files, Edward peered over the top, locking gazes with his commanding officer. Glancing down, Edward skimmed the report. He lifted an eyebrow, the name on the report had been redacted. Lifting the report up, he read the next report. Again, the name was redacted. Usually, names were only redacted if….. Frowning, Edward went over the injuries and cause of death. This one seem more...personal than the last.

“Look at the photos, _De-tect-ive_ ,” ordered his Captain.

Edward slowly shuffled the reports to locate the photos within the file. He could feel a pit growing his stomach. His mind was screaming at him...something was wrong. Steeling his nerves, Edward dropped his gaze down to the photo.

The photo was the case Al had told him about—the victim had been brutally mutilated.  His eyes flickered over the photo, his frown deepening. Just what the hell was she playing at?  What did this have to do with...Recognition flash quickly over him as he noticed the mutilated cheek of the unknown man.

Yoki… The henchman who had…. _Fuck._ He didn’t need this shit.

“The next one, Elric,” commanded Himo, each word laced with venom.

Ignoring the twisting in his gut, Edward slowly uncovered the photo. Edward inhaled sharply, trying to desperately to control his breathing, his eyes widening. Staring back at him frozen in terror was the face of Detective Richard WIlliams. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Edward gently picked up the photo, silently congratulating himself for keeping his hand steady. He stared at the photo for seem like an eternity, cataloguing each piece of mutilation etched into his fellow officer’s body. Richard’s body was photographed lying in a waste filled alleyway; his legs crudely hacked off, burns visible along the flesh of his sides leaving charred flesh behind, fingers bent and crushed,  his face disfigured with multiple bruises, jagged lines of slice flesh from ear to ear; his genitals hanging from his neck in a crude castration. He had been tortured and mutilated for hours—left for dead in a pool of his blood.

“When?” he asked hoarsely, hating how his voice betrayed him.

“His body was found five days ago. His torture and subsequent mutilation happened while you were off playing house, Detective Elric,” Himo stated, locking her magenta gaze with him.

Edward didn’t flinch as each word twisted a knife to his heart. He stared at his commander impassively as she searched into his soul.  He waited until she settled herself back into her chair, tapping her pen on the desk. Quietly, he snapped the file closed.

“According to our resources, he had an encounter with you while undercover. Witnesses claim that it did not bode well for him,” Himo paused, shuffling the files on her desk before tapping her long nails along the desk. Edward pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to break under her scrutiny, the tension settling uncomfortably on his shoulders as the minutes ticked by. “One might start to question your loyalty, Elric. After all, a detective was just murder on your watch.”

“I understand, Captain.”

“See that you do. Dismissed,” Himo replied, waving her hand towards the door.

Edward nodded. With a quick salute, he turned on his heel and marched towards the door. The dark commanding figure in the doorway forced him to halt his exit. Looking upwards, Edward quickly saluted, standing ramrod straight with a crisp “Sir”.

Commissioner Bradley stood in the doorway, towering over Edward. His uncovered dark eye pierced Edward into place,  his mustache twitching as he smiled gently towards him.

“Captain, I’m sure the boy is doing his best. After all, he’s been a rising star within the department. So many solved cases for one so young,” the Commissioner drawled, clasping his hand over Edward’s shoulder. “Poor business with what happened to Officer Williams. Such a sad state to see one of our one so brutally murdered. Elric, I have the utmost confidence that you will bring his murderer to justice.”

“Yes, sir,” Edward saluted.

Edward locked his gaze with the commissioner with determination only to be met with veiled humour of his commanding officer. Commissioner Bradley gave him a quick salute before stepping to the side with a sweeping gesture. Edward nodded and headed out the door, pausing when the Commissioner leaned down to his ear.

“I see great things for you, Elric. I just hope your loyalties are for the people of this great country,” Bradley murmured, gripping Ed’s arm tight. Edward narrowed his eyes, nodding his understanding, his eyes focusing on the red ink peeking out for the commander's neck. It seemed familiar.

“I understand sir,” Edward said softly before leaving the two commanders to their own devices.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse looked up, hearing the door to his office slam open before being kicked closed. His face scrunched up in confusion as his older brother spun around to him. His grief-stricken face caused Alphonse to fly up from his chair, darting towards his brother as he crumbled to the ground, an inhuman cry leaving his lips. Alphonse pulled his brother into his embrace, rocking him gently.

“Brother?” Alphonse called quietly, his voice full of worry.

“I’d killed him, Al. He’s gone because of me. I’d killed him. It’s my fault,” Edward sobbed, turning his face into his brother’s shirt. Ignoring the wetness soaking his shirt, Alphonse hugged his brother tighter, humming reassurances, his mind trying to desperately understand his brother’s distress.

“Brother, who?”

“Ri….Rich….Richard, I killed him. Fuck, I didn’t think...” Edward trailed off, sobs racking through his body as he clasped his brother shirt. Alphonse’s humming increased as he gently carded his fingers through his brother’s blond hair, waiting patiently for his brother to calm. Hearing Edward’s sobs quiet down and leaving only the tremors behind, Alphonse disentangled himself from his brother’s grasp.

“Edward, whatever happen you didn’t cause it,” Al whispered, cupping his brother face tenderly and forcing him to look at him.

“But—I did Al. If he hadn't seen me...If I hadn’t….engaged with him….at the club… If I had left before Mustang,” Edward whispered brokenly, eyeing the ground.

“Stop it, Ed. You can’t save everyone. You just can’t,” Al whispered softly, looking his brother in the eye.

“He...Mustang...did.. It because of me, Al,” Edward shouted, pushing away from his brother. Al watched dispassionately as his brother scrambled out, pacing back and forth. “His murder...it was brutal Al. Personal. Fuck, I didn’t think. Damnit.”

Alphonse flinched as his brother sent his automail arm into the nearest wall. Shaking his head, Alphonse carefully walked over to his brother, placing his hands on Ed’s shoulders.

“You. Can’t. Control. Mustang. Edward,” Alphonse said slowly as if speaking to a small child.  

“But—I might as well have pulled the trigger. Fuck...What have I done?” Edward sobbed, sinking to the floor. His body racked with sobs as he let his grief out, feeling the weight of Richard’s murder on his shoulders. Spotting the discarded file on the floor, Al bent over and picked it up. Skimming it, Al’s frown deepened. This was not done by protocol. If this was linked to Mustang, it should have been handled by his team. Narrowing his eyes at the blacked out names, Alphonse’s eyes flashed in annoyance. _Fucking bitch._

“Edward, go home. Get some rest. I'll see what I can dig up,” Alphonse commanded, helping his brother up. “I'll call you later and let you know.”

Alphonse let out a breath as he watched his brother’s broken form retreat to the safety of his home. Growling, Alphonse sat the files on his desk and began calling his team. He was gonna get to the bottom of this.

 

* * *

  

Edward glared at his phone, which sat on the table mockingly. It lit up as the soft melody went off again. With a groan, he covered his eyes with one hand while reaching for the nearby bottle of cheap vodka. Taking a swig of the cheap liquor, Edward closed his eyes, savoring the burn down his throat.

Grabbing his phone, Edward swiped at the screen, skimming the messages and pointedly ignoring Mustang’s. Clicking on his brother’s number, he quirked an eyebrow as the word ‘e-mail’ stared back at him. Numbly, Edward stumbled around the loft, searching for his laptop. With an ‘Ah Ha’, he walked back into the kitchen with his laptop in his grasp.

Cursing, he stumbled, grappling with the laptop as he fell to the floor in a fail of limbs. Groaning, Edward struck his head against the flooring, beating his head into it. _Just fuck._ Edward laid there, letting the coldness of the floor numb him as he analyzed the situation.

Grasping the leg of a chair, he pulled himself up and placed his laptop on the table. Entering his password, he waited patiently for the internet to load. Typing in the necessary information, he clicked on the message and waited. Reading the message quickly, he clicked on the video attachment. Kain had finished with the clean up. There was no audio, but he could make out the details: a man was dragging another man’s already dead body to the scene of the crime. He watched dispassionately, noting the details of the man’s movements. His eyes widened as the man turned and smiled, waving at the camera. Quickly, he flew over to the sink and emptied the contents of his stomach violently. Shaking, he wiped his mouth, heaving with each breath. He stared unfocused as he willed the roiling in his stomach to calm. _Just what the fuck was going on?_

 

* * *

 

The sound of music mixed with the laughter and moans vibrated against the walls of Roy’s office. Scowling, Roy threw his phone onto the desk with a clatter;  Edward had yet to reply to him. He knew he was back. His men had seen his return—he was a two days earlier than expected. Something wasn’t right.

Snarling, he gripped the blond locks of his pet and pulled him forwards, pushing him down underneath his desk. Without command, his pet shakily went to work unbuckling his pants. He moaned unabashedly as his pet greedily took him into his mouth. Pushing down, Roy closed his eyes as his member hit the back of his pet’s throat. Releasing the blond locks, Roy groaned as his pet began to service him in earnest, licking the underside of his erection and dragging his teeth light across the sensitive flesh. At the polite cough, Roy opened his eyes, glaring at who dared to interrupt him.

“Report,” Roy commanded, clenching his teeth.

“Your package was delivered as requested, sir,” Hawkeye paused, grasping an envelope from Breda who nodded to his boss.

“This just came for the Boss, sir.” Breda motioned towards the envelope before settling in the chair in front of Mustang. “I’d already check it out. Its photos.”

Nodding, Mustang held out his hand ignoring his pet’s actions. He lifted his eyebrow at Hawkeye’s disapproving look as she handed him the package. Opening it swiftly, Mustang poured its contents onto the desk, spreading them out in one swift movement. Mustang’s eyes flashed at the pictures of a very gruesome murder staring back at him mixed in with photos of his sweet Edward.  

_Cazzo!_

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling loudly. Sifting his gaze towards his subordinates, he flicked a photo towards each of them. He waited patiently for them to look the photo over.

“Inform Havoc, his skills are needed. Breda, tend to the Senator. See if he is of any use. I trust your judgement,” Roy ordered, laying his hand on his pet’s head absently.  He lazily thrusted his hips upwards, enjoying the warm mouth wrapped around. He could almost envision…

Roy stared down at the photos again, gently fingering the outline of Edward’s face. Placing his elbows forwards, he locked gazes with Hawkeye, nodding towards Breada as he took his leave.

He eyed her impassively, letting the moments tick by, marked by the slurping noises from underneath his desk. Folding his hands, Mustang cleared his throat. “Inform my rook: I want everything to do with this. Tonight, “ he barked, noting the handiwork of the gruesome scene depicted in the photo.

“Yes, Sir,” Hawkeye nodded swiftly, taking her phone out.

Roy ignored her, focusing on his pet. He absently stroked his pet’s hair before thrusting upwards. Stilling his pet’s shocked gasp by grasping the nape of their neck, Roy began to fuck the hot mouth. Sliding his eyes close, he let the tingling in his spine take over, enjoying the choking noises spewing from his pet. Not relenting, he picked up his pace feeling his release coming closer. Grasping his pet’s head, he shoved his pet’s face flushed against his pelvic bone, letting himself unload into the awaiting mouth with a loud groan.

Mustang petted the head resting against his leg, his frown deepening. His heart ached as he stared at the beautiful face of Edward. He swore the man’s golden eyes were staring back at him in accusation. Pinching the bridge to his nose, Roy swore. He felt empty. Leaning back in his chair, he dismissed the pet with a wave of his hand.

“It’s done, sir. Yao will be back within the week with our contacts from Japan, “ Hawkeye stated, not batting an eyelash at the display that had just occurred. Roy could feel her brown eyes searching him, looking for something.

“Very well. Make sure everything is prepared for when they arrive. I want no mistakes,” he ordered, nodding his dismissal. He quietly latched his belt, his mind searching his chess board. Picking up his dagger, Roy flicked it under his nails before placing it into the wood of his desk. Shifting through the photos, Roy pressed his lips into a thin line. Grasping the hilt, he threw his dagger into the wall; his frustration vibrated down the wall. Well played.

 

* * *

 

Edward groaned. There was a marching band drilling into his skull. Groggily, he blinked himself awake, shuddering every time the drum sounded. Grabbing his head, Edward took deep breaths forcing the bile down. The loud slam of the cabinet door startled him to the floor. Moaning, Edward rubbed at his eyes to be greeted with two younger brothers. Al and Al stared at him disapprovingly, thrusting a mug into his hand. Confused, Edward cradled the mug with both hands, inhaling the sweet scent of coffee. Blinking rapidly, he took a tentative sip, willing his double vision away.

“Al?” he whispered, trying to recall what had happened.

“Of all the foolish things to do, Edward,” Al scolded, banging Edward’s dishes in the sink loudly. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and go take a salted caramel shower or so help me, I will dump your sorry arse in there myself.”

Edward swallowed thickly, his eyes widening as his visioned cleared. He looked around his loft, the memories of the night before coming back to him. Fuck. He slowly pulled himself up, wavering slightly as everything titled. He looked over to his brother, who was staring at him with strong disapproval. Nodding, he stumbled his way to the shower, throwing off his clothes and entering the tepid water.

Edward closed his eyes, feeling the spray of the water hit his skin. Yesterday’s events flitted across his memory. He blinked back his tears, unsure of what everything meant. He had never seen Mustang kill anyone. Maim sure, but never without provocation. The man was an enigma. But, Richard.

Swallowing thickly, he finished his bathroom routine, hoping that his stomach would calm. Mechanically, he went through the motions of his routine before heading down to see his brother again. Bracing himself, Edward entered his small living room eyeing his brother wearily. Al patted the seat next to him. Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, Edward made his way towards his brother, settling next to him.

Alphonse continued to stare impassively, drinking his tea with small sips. Edward felt the tension coil around his spine, waiting. After an hour (really only five minutes), Alphonse sighed heavily, twisting his body to face his brother. Edward paled at his brother’s intense scrutiny, fidgeting slightly. With a disapproving noise, Al set his cup down and addressed his brother.

“That was stupid, Edward. Very stupid. I understand that you’re upset. But to drink yourself into a stupor? That was reckless. So many things could have gone wrong. You feel responsible. Fine, I can’t persuade you otherwise. Do something about it instead of whatever the cookies n cream this was. I have never been so ashamed.”

Edward paled considerably as his brother’s voice grew quieter and quieter with each word. Damn. His stomach gave a lurch, forcing him to take a deep breath. Hanging his head, he let his bangs fall forwards, covering his face.

“I’m sorry, Al,” he whispered, shame washing over him. He was better than this.

“Good, I have to go to work. I’ll call you later, brother,” Al smiled before heading out the door, leaving a pensive Edward.

Getting up, Edward walked over to his small kitchen to find that his brother cleaned his disastrous night up. Glancing at his computer, he swallowed, willing the rollercoaster in his stomach away. Grabbing his phone, he swiped the screen. Over a hundred messages stared at him. Fuck. Clicking on the last one, he read it while shaking his head. It was time to get to work.

 

* * *

 

Ed shifted uneasily from one foot to another. Mustang’s right hand woman was staring at him. He felt like she was trying to pierce his soul. _What was the deal with everyone staring at him?_

“Yes?” he asked softly, locking gazes with the severe woman.

“I’ve known him a long time, Edward,” she began, slowing her pace down as she led him through the club. Edward raised an eyebrow as she stopped short and turned to face him right in front of the the staircase. “Be careful.”

Edward stared after her in confusion. Be careful? Of what? Mustang? Him? Shaking his head, Edward grasped the banister and began his climb into the Devil’s den.

 

* * *

 

Roy watched with hooded eyes as Edward came into view; The man he coveted to the point of liability. Keeping his expression blank, he drank in Edward, noting the dark circles under his eyes and weariness in his step. It had been a week, since Edward had reappeared; two since he saw him last.

Edward had maintained radio silence with him. If it wasn’t for his men… Gripping the chair, Roy waited patiently for Edward to approach him. Each tentative step, echoing in his ears as eternity passed around him. The music faded around them, laughter dimmed, hushed whispers as Roy felt the weight of everyone’s stares. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Edward stopped within arm’s reach of him, his body rigid with tension. Good, then. Edward knew.

Roy was no fool. He knew what card had been played. Arching an eyebrow, Roy maintained his silence, letting the tension rise in the air. He would not make the first move. He was a patient man. One had to be.

“Hey,” Edward whispered softly with a small wave, before staring at the ground.

“Good evening, Edward. I’m surprised to see you tonight,” Roy drawled, leaning backwards and crossing his legs over one another. “After all, not one call or text in the last two weeks. One would not know what to expect with such grievous manners.”

“Yeah, about that. S’rry. Some things had...uh.. Had Come up. I got pretty busy,” Edward replied softly.

Roy’s frown deepened, his eyes glittering dangerous as he let his gaze roam over his ‘lover’.

“Come up?” he clipped, drawing each word out, his voice containing dark promises. Roy uncrossed his legs, standing up and began to circle Edward. “Busy, Edward? I’m a busy man. I don’t have the luxury to waste away my days worrying over a child.”

The sound of his boots echoed against the marble floor with each step towards Edward, the room around them fading away as they locked gazes. Leaning down, he blew gently into Edward’s ear, enjoying the shudder.

“A child, who’s trying to play a very adult game,” he said darkly, pulling back enough to see the fire in Edward’s gaze. Roy smirked lazily.

“Vai al inferno, bastard,” Ed growled, moving to shove Roy out of his space. “I’m not a fuckin’ child.”

Mustang grabbed his wrists, pulling him flushed against him. Cupping Edward’s face, Mustang’s frown deepened. “Then stop acting like one, _Ed-ward_ ,” Mustang purred, forcing Edward to look up at him.

“Vaffanculo!” Edward barked, trying to break free of Roy’s grasp.

“I would rather Fuck You, my sweet little Edward.”  Mustang gripped Edward’s chin, capturing Edward’s mouth in a possessive brutal kiss, anchoring Edward against him. Deepening the kiss, he plundered the younger man’s mouth leaving no crevice unturned, devouring him. Breaking apart with a nip to his tesoro bottom lip,  Mustang eyes darkened at Edward's whimper.

“I’m a simple man to please, my sweet tesoro. I will not be made a fool of,” Mustang chided, his voice dripping in unspoken promise. Locking eyes with beautiful golden ones blown with lust, Mustang smirked, sweeping the younger man into his arms. Cradling him, he steadily walked towards his throne, ignoring Edward’s indignant shouts.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Mustang?” his tereso growled, forcing Mustang’s grip tighter.

“You, little one, need to be taught a lesson,” Roy answered smoothly, stressing each word flowing.

“Little? Who the fuck are you calling—” Edward shouted, his tirade stopped short at the piercing gaze of the King of the Underworld. Shuddering, Edward swallowed thickly, finding only dark promises in the man’s watchful gaze.

Mustang bypassed his throne, turning towards the balcony. He settled the younger man in front of the balcony and caged him against the railing.

“Edward, you’ve been naughty,” Mustang purred into Edward’s ear, his voice lowering with each word. “Naughtiness ought to be punished, sweet Edward.”

Mustang wrapped his fingers into Edward's long ponytail, wrapping it around his wrist. Yanking it hard, he placed open mouth kisses along Edward’s exposed neck as Edward arched backwards with a hiss. Biting roughly, Mustang sucked the wound until the skin was a deep red color.

“I should take you right here, _Ed-ward._ For all the world to see, That. You. Are. Mine,” Mustang breathed into his ear, thrusting his hips against Edward’s with each word. Edward’s startled gasp sent shivers down his spine in the best of ways. “Would you like that, _Ed-ward_? Splayed for the world to see as I drive into your sweet ass?”

Edward closed his eyes, breathing heavily, Mustang’s voice washing over him like whiskey warming him to his toes. His breath caught, his eyes blown wide at the first crack against his backside left him gaping. Mustang pushed him down roughly against the banister, forcing him to bend over it and leaving his ass displayed for the King of the Underworld’s pleasure. He shouldn’t be doing this. This...he shouldn’t...

Mustang ran a smooth hand along the leather clad ass in front of him. Grabbing a fist full of the pilant flesh, he gave a low moan. This man was so damn perfect. Drawing small circles, he flattened his palm and smacked it harshly, the sound echoing across the VIP Section. The tension palpable prickled at his skin. He  could feel the weight of their stares. Peeling back the leather, he uncovered the flesh hidden inside. Running his hand along the creamy flesh, he smacked it again, darkening the skin to a brilliant red.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, punctuating with each smack, delighting in the low moan that escaped his tesoro mouth. With quick succession he peppered his lover’s backside, each smack of his hand echoing across the room until Edward was a quivering mess in front of him. Covering the younger man’s body with his, he nipped at the younger man’s ear blowing softly. Wrapping his arm around the smaller man, he cupped Edward’s straining erection, running his fingers teasing along the leather clad length.

“Should I take you right here, Edward? Let the world see how greedy your tight little hole quivers along my cock?” Mustang purred, dipping his hand into Edward’s leather pants, fisting the weeping length.

Edward moaned, bucking his hips into Roy’s fist at the obscene picture each word painted for him. Fuck, he needed to stop this.

Wrapping his hand in Edward’s golden locks, Mustang pulled his hair roughly, forcing Edward’s back to bow in beautiful submission while exposing the long length of Edward’s neck to him. Roy placed biting kisses along Edward’s jaw, traveling down the length and soothing each kiss with a lick of his tongue, never once stopping as he pumped Edward into his hand. Grinning, he mouthed his lover’s shoulder before biting down roughly and sucking the abused flesh into his mouth.  

“I will not be made a fool of Edward,” Roy murmured, snapping his hips against Edward’s, letting the younger man feel his straining erection rub against him. “You belong to me. I will not let you go.”

Edward gasped, Mustang’s words washing over him and sending tingles of pleasure down his spine. He shouldn’t want... Edward quivered against Mustang, turning his head he mouthed along Mustang’s jaw, tasting the sweet taste of salt mixed with Mustang’s flavor unique of all his own.

Growling, Mustang captured his lips, devouring him in one swoop and swallowing his cries. Roy slowed his hand, teasingly running his blunt fingernails along the underside of Edward’s erection. Roy swallowed Ed’s whimpers, committing the taste of him to memory. Sucking Edward’s bottom lip into his mouth, Roy pulled back, enjoying the sight of his tesoro: bent over, his lovely ass stained with red, his cock leaking into Roy’s grasp, golden eyes blown wide with desire, chest heaving.

“Should I, Edward? Should I open that pretty pink hole of yours?” Roy said darkly, gripping Edward’s chin, forcing him to look down. “Look at them, my tesoro. Should I showed them how much I can make you beg for my cock?”

“Fuck Roy... ” Edward moaned, bucking his hips into Mustang’s grip. Sweat beaded into his eyes, the sensations overwhelming him. He arched his back, screwing his eyes shut as Mustang gave a twist of his hand. “Shit, Roy… I can’t, I can’t...”

“Can’t what, tesoro? You want me to stop?” Mustang stilled his hand, studying Edward’s flush form spread wantonly against him. He was a vision. He smirked at Edward’s frustrated cry of being denied a release so close. Grasping Edward’s hair, he pulled him backwards, forcing him to arch his back. Trailing a hand down his spine, he dipped one finger in between the rounded globes, circling the inner taut flesh.

“Roy, please,” Edward sobbed, trembling with pleasure.

Roy hummed a noncommittal reply before smacking Edward’s taut flesh. Soothing the abuse flesh, Roy placed a chaste kiss on Edward’s shoulder before pulling away completely.

Edward groaned, missing the warmth of Mustang pressed against him. He twisted his head searching for the older man, only to suck in a breath at the disapproving glare pointed at him. Mustang stood behind him, every bit of the King of the Underworld, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Roy?” Edward whispered, turning his body fully, still trembling from Mustang’s brutal onslaught. He watched warily as Mustang approached him, closing the distance between them. Looking up, Edward sighed and leaned into Mustang’s hand as he cupped his cheek tenderly.

“I will not be made a fool of Edward. Next time, I won’t be so lenient,” Mustang said, his voice filled with a promise against his lips before applying a briefest amount of pressure.

Edward rose on his tiptoes, trying to keep the connection between them, not caring about his state of undress. He felt Mustang pull his leather pants up. He hissed as the leather rubbed against his raw flesh. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Edward stared after Mustang who turned on his heel and began to walk towards his throne.  

“Come, my tesoro. I have work to do.”

Roy patted his leg and pulled Edward onto his lap after he wearily approached him. Smiling, he gently tucked Edward into him, his grin widening at the intake of breath from the younger man. He snapped his fingers, ignoring the stares upon them. He inwardly chuckled at the scurry of those around them. Take a deep breath, Roy closed his eyes basking in Edward’s warmth and discomfort.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [ Tumblr. ](https://stargazerlilith.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: We're getting closer to the end!! Yay! I hope ya'll are ready for this wild ride. Only 4 chapters left! Those who have stuck with me, thank you so much for your support. The comments and kudos really make my day. 
> 
> As for my health, I am doing much better. I've been out of the hospital for two weeks and I've returned to work. So, fingers crossed that the worst is over. 
> 
> Thank you to [hellosweetie17](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17) for all your help and beta'ing. She's awesome; y'all should check out her stories! 
> 
> Now, I hope all of you enjoy this chapter. Please keep in mind that this story is rated E for a reason. Enjoy, my dears! Have a great New Year!!

* * *

Edward laid his head on the cool wooden table and closed his eyes. His mind was whirling. He just didn’t know what to think anymore. It had been a few weeks since the 'incident' with Mustang. Things have gone back to normal—well as normal as it could be.

Sighing, he stood and picked up his laptop, laying it on the table before opening it up. Running a hand through his hair, he stuck his encrypted usb drive into it. As he waited for it to load, he thought about the last few weeks. Mustang seemed to busy more often than naught. Edward felt like something big was about to happen. _Fuck._ He need to figure this out before that happened.

He stared at his computer blankly, clicking open the files Al had given him. Taking a deep breath, he skimmed through the reports, compartmentalizing each piece of information. Narrowing his eyes, he jump when his phone started playing ‘Stronger’. Sliding the call button, he placed it up to his ear with a gruff, “What?”

“Is that any way to greet the one person who holds your life in your hands, Edward?” the voice on the other line screeched.  

“Hey Win, sorry. Working. What’s up?” Edward soothed, frowning as he re-read the reports in front of him.

“Ed, it’s getting colder. I’ll be in town by end of the week to fix you up. How’d the covers work? Were you able to function with them?” Winry asked softly into the receiver.

“They...ah, well you see.. They worked okay when I tried it. But, I think the metal just works better for me, ya know?" Edward stammered, rubbing the back of his head. He could practically hear the whirling of a wrench on the other line and suppressed a shudder. “But, I think they would be good for someone else.”

“I see.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate them Win. It just in my line of work…”

“I get it, Ed. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there to fix you up this weekend.”

“Uh, yeah...okay. I’ll ...um ...meet you at the apartment then,” Edward replied, his mind going a mile a minute. He would have to tell Mustang. _Fuck_ , his life wasn’t easy at the moment.

“Ed?” Winry paused. “You ok?”

“I’m fine, Win. Just working. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Ok, Ed. I’ll see you then.”

Edward slid the end call button, setting his phone into his hand. _Just fuck_. He had forgotten that he needed to have Winry look at his arm and leg.

Shaking his head, he stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. Stiffly, he opened his message icon and clicked on Mustang’s name. Quickly, he typed a quick message before hitting the send button.

Hopefully, the bastard would understand. Since that night, Mustang had made it clear who was owned in their relationship. All because he couldn’t keep his shit together. Looking at the time, Edward swore and closed out the documents, making sure to encrypt them again. He needed to go. Otherwise, he would be late.

 

* * *

 

Pride twirled the rope within his hands, letting the edges burn against his skin. He listened with a bored ear to the meeting.

“Why can’t I just kill him, already?” he whined, his grin widening at the mental picture.

“Patience, Pride. All in due time,” the booming voice of Wrath scolded, clasping Pride’s shoulder with his strong hands. “Lust, is it almost ready?”

“Yes, Gluttony and Sloth are finishing up,” she replied, flicking nonexistence dirt from her fingernails.

“Good, Good,” Wrath beamed, dismissing them with a wave of his hands.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse sipped his coffee, enjoying the sun’s warmth on his skin. He arched an eyebrow as a stern blonde woman settled in front of him. He stared at her intently not saying a word and continued to sip his coffee. He waited patiently, letting the minutes tick by.

He had an idea of who she was. She was a tall woman with many attributes that most men would drool over, but her posture and demeanor screamed no nonsense. She matched his gaze evenly before leaving with a curt nod. Alphonse looked down at the slip of paper hiding under his cup.

Carefully, he picked up it and flipped it over; the name Hughes was scrawled across it in elegant handwriting. _Hmmm, interesting_. Al continued to sip his coffee, fiddling with his phone. Crumbling the paper, he tore it apart sticking part of it in his cup. It would seem that whatever the fudge revel was going on was more than they could have ever imagined. Standing up, Al tossed his cup into the bin, walking away with bits of paper floating on the breeze.

 

* * *

 

Edward sighed, snuggling into the warmth next to him. Moments like this he could get lost in. He looked up at the nudge to his face, moaning as Mustang’s mouth descended on his. He whimpered; Mustang had picked him up and settled him over his legs, deepening the kiss. Edward explored Mustang’s mouth, enjoying the wonderful spicy taste of the man mixed with his own cooking. Wrapping his arms around Mustang’s neck, he pulled himself closer, sucking on his ‘boyfriend’s’ bottom lip. Breaking apart, Edward flushed at Mustang’s dark gaze blown with lust. Leaning his head on the man’s chest, Edward listened to his heartbeat, settling his nerves.

“It’s been awhile since we could sit like this. Just us,” Edward whispered, closing his eyes while Mustang ran his fingers throughout the strands of his hair.

Mustang hummed a noncommittal reply, basking in the domestically of the moment. He gently guided Edward to look at him and smiled. “I know, mio tesoro. My associates from overseas have kept me busy.”

“I understand, Roy. I do, just missed this,” Edward murmured. When they were like this, Edward could almost forget...Almost believe that they were just Roy and Ed. Not what they really are—two men standing on opposites sides of the coin.

“Cenz for your thought, my sweet Edward?” Mustang asked, letting Edward’s scent envelop him.

Edward made a small noise before placing his lips against Must—Roy’s. Closing his eyes, he lapped at Mustang’s lips, tracing them with his tongue until Roy opened them up for him. Diving into the man’s mouth, he moaned, feeling Roy tighten his grip around him. Ed shifted himself, running his hands through silky black hair while he rocked his hips forwards, rubbing against the silk of Roy’s pants.

Roy pulled away from Edward’s sweet mouth and stared intently into his eyes, searching. Something felt different, his treasure was trying to convey something to him, but Roy was at a loss as to what it could be.

“Edward?” he breathed against his lover’s lips, stilling him with a firm grip.

“Roy, please. Let’s just be us tonight. Just us. _Please_ ,” Edward pleaded, placing open mouth kisses against Roy’s neck. “Please, Roy. I need _you!_ ”

Roy sucked in a breath before picking up Edward in one swift motion. Cradling him in his arms, he kicked open the door to his bedroom. He grinned evilly, tossing his tesoro into the middle of the red silken sheets.

Edward laughed, bouncing onto the mattress. He lowered his eyelashes and crooked a finger at the handsome man in front of him. He watched breathlessly; Mustang slowly approached him, crawling on top of the mattress like a lion stalking his prey, desire burning in his eyes.

Stopping just inches from his face, Roy laid his weight on top of him, bracing himself on his forearms.

“Are you sure, mio tesoro?” Roy ghosted over his lips, the warmth sending tingles down Edward’s spine.

“Yes,” Edward said breathlessly, wrapping his arms around Roy’s neck and pulling him closer.

Roy didn’t need to be told twice and pressed his lips onto Edward’s. Coaxing Edward to open for him, he licked his way inside his tesoro’s sweet mouth, moaning over the heady blend of sweet wine and Edward as it hit his tongue. Taking his time, he explored every crevice of his lover’s mouth, trailing his fingers along Edward’s sides, only breaking apart for the need of oxygen. His lover laid panting below him, his eyes wide with desire and a beautiful pink blush gracing his cheeks.

“Beautiful,” Roy purred, kissing his way along Edward’s jaw line. He nipped the younger’s ear, earning him a startled gasp before licking his way down the beautiful column of his neck.

“Roy,” Edward sighed, arching his neck to give his lover better access, feeling the heat spread down his body.  Shifting, he grinded his hips upwards, brushing his erection against Roy’s. Moaning from the slight friction, Edward thrust upwards wanting to feel it again.

Roy chuckled against his neck, sending tingles down his spine from the vibration. “Soon, Edward. We’ve got all night,” Roy purred, his voice full of promised pleasure.

Edward swallowed and nodded. He leaned up intent on bringing Roy back to him, only to have Roy move out of his reach. Roy gave him a sinful smile, slowly trailing his hands upwards, slowly revealing taut muscular flesh to Ed’s gaze. Roy unabashedly flexed his muscles, peeling off his shirt and throwing it over his shoulder, leaving him only in his dark slacks.

Edward felt his mouth go dry at the sight of Roy’s chest. Biting his lip, Edward got up on his knees, trailing his fingers over Roy’s golden tribal tattoo. Softly, he traced each line with the pad of his fingers followed by his lips. He grinned as Roy shivered from his ministrations. Slowly, Edward flattened his palm against Roy’s chest, pushing him downwards. Climbing on top of him, Edward went back to his worship of Roy’s chest, making sure to trail his tongue along each curve of his tattoo as he headed downwards. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was overpowering to have the most powerful man in the city—possibly country below him at his mercy.

He blew gently against Roy’s stomach; he grinned evilly as the taut muscles jumped. Continuing his assault, Edward licked along the pinkish puckered scar tissue threaded within Roy’s tattoo, nipping lightly. Roy’s unabashed moaned, sent shivers of warmth down his body. Locking his eyes with the King of the Underworld, Edward mouthed against Roy’s still clothed erection before hooking his fingers into the waistband. Roy’s hitch of breath made Edward float on a cloud. Sitting up, he soaked up the sight below him: Mustang’s eyes eclipsed in pure want, lips parted glistening wetly, chest heaving with each moan… He was pure sin. Slowly, Edward pulled off Mustang’s slacks and tossed them to the side.

Mustang swallowed thickly, watching the devil angel above him. Fuck, he didn’t know that Edward could be like this. _So fucking perfect._ Moaning, he spread his legs in invitation reaching down to grip his cock. Edward’s smack against his hand, sent him reeling. Mustang watched and parted his lips as Edward took him into his mouth in one swift motion, his tongue twirling against the tip. He bucked his hips upwards, feeling the back of his treasure’s wonderful mouth.

“Fuck,” Roy whimpered, wrapping Edward’s silken tresses within his fingers.

Edward smirked around the wonderful shaft in his mouth, humming his approval at Roy. Placing his hands flat against Roy’s hips, Edward hollowed his cheeks and began to bob up and down. Pulling up and leaving only the tip in his mouth, Edward twirled his tongue into the slit before pressing Roy fully into his mouth until he felt the dark curls teasing his nose. Locking his gaze with Roy’s, he swallowed, enjoying the cry of pleasure ripped from Roy’s mouth.

Feeling dizzy from the rush of power, Edward bobbed up and down as the sounds of Roy’s cries and Edward’s slurping filled the room. Edward moaned around his shaft. He felt Roy’s control breaking as he roughly yanked Edward’s hair, thrusting upwards with shaky movements.  

“Fuck, Edward. La tua bocca mi fa impazzire,” Roy moaned, feeling the pleasure building at an increasing speed.

Swiftly, he yanked Edward back and pounced on top of the younger man. Before Edward could blink, Roy captured his mouth in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue as they fought for dominance. Roy’s swept his hands down, pulling Edward’s shirt upwards, drawing circles lightly as he scrunched it up.

Breaking away from Edward, he leaned down and captured Edward’s nipple in his mouth, earning him an ilicited gasp. Sucking lightly, he twirled his tongue around the nub, leaving Edward a quivering mess under him before he turned his attention towards the other one.

“Too much clothes,” he said huskily, leaning Edward up. He yanked the shirt off the rest of the way, throwing it over his shoulder. Kissing Edward soundly, he pushed the younger man back into the mattress, nodding his approval as Edward wrapped himself around him.

Groaning, Roy mouthed his way down Edward’s neck, leaving a trail of wetness. Roughly, he bit into Edward’s shoulder and sucked lightly before soothing it with his tongue. Edward’s cries of pleasure sent shocks of pleasure down his spine. Roy continued his trek downwards, repaying Edward tenfold for his worship. He gently traced the line where automail met flesh, wrenching a pleasure filled moan as Edward arched against him. He would have to remember that sensitivity. Slowly, he followed the lines of Edward’s tattoo, tracing the lettering over his heart with his tongue before nipping down the curved black ink of his tribal tattoo.

Soothing his hands downwards, he hooked his fingers into the sinfully tight pants his lover seemed to adore. Staring at Edward’s eyes blown with lust, he slowly pulled them down. Sitting at the bottom of Edward’s feet, he leered at the gorgeous man below him: his golden hair in disarray, lips swollen and bruised, cheeks flushed a brilliant scarlet traveling downwards, his creamy flesh reddened with his touch, legs splayed apart, his beautiful cock weeping for Roy’s attention.

“Come sei bella. Perfect,” he moaned, leaning down to place kisses along Edward’s legs. Locking his gaze with Edward’s, he lifted his lover’s automail knee, placing a kiss on the inside, whispering beautiful before doing the same to the flesh one. Working his way up, Roy continued his assault, delighting in each beautiful noise and tremble Edward made. Looking up, Roy smiled widely, wiping the wetness from his lover and licking the salty tears into his mouth.

Edward took a deep breath, exhaling it shakily at the King of Sin in front of him. No one, no one had done what he just did: accept him—all of him. Pushing those thoughts away, Edward arched his back, feeling Roy’s questing fingers travel down his length towards his entrance. He moaned wantonly as the fingers traced the muscle, not even noticing Roy leaning over and grabbing a small bottle. The squelching noise of the bottle woke him from his reverie. He arched an eyebrow; Roy was grinning, rubbing his fingers together before placing them at his entrance.

Roy loomed over Edward, capturing his mouth again and swallowing his surprised cry as one finger entered him. Pushing his finger in and out, Roy moaned into Edward’s mouth, reveling in the feeling of his young lover’s body greedily taking in his finger. Biting his lover’s lips, Roy placed another finger into him, scissoring them. Roy swallowed Edward’s cries, feeling his lover’s cock slide against his own wetly. Swearing, Roy thrust another finger into Edward, stretching him in his pursuit for that wonderful bundle of nerves.

Edward kneened, his back bowing from the shock of pleasure as Mustang prodded against his prostate. Closing his eyes, Edward began to tremble and pant from the teasing graze of his lover’s fingers against his hidden bundle of nerves.

“Please, Roy. I can’t.. Fuck. _Roy_ ,” he whined; the filthy noises of Roy’s fingers buried deep within him made him impossibly harder.

“Yes, my sweet? Is there something you want?” Roy teased, his voice dripping like honey, sugary and sweet with an edge of something darker.

“Roy, Fuck... Fuck me, ya bastard! I need you... _Fuck_ ,” Edward cried out, Roy's fingers hammering into him.

“As you wish.”  Roy roughly pulled his fingers out and thrust into Edward swiftly.  Both of them moaned at the feeling as Roy slid the rest of the way into Ed’s warm heat. Stilling above his lover, Roy lowered himself over Edward, kissing him gently as he waited for Edward to adjust.

“Fucking move, dammit,” Edward growled, locking his legs around Mustang and grinding himself downwards.

Roy moaned, flexing his hips in experimental thrusts. Teasingly, he withdrew, leaving only the tip before roughly snapping his hips forwards and forcing Edward to arch upwards, panting for breath. Smirking, Roy began to set up a grueling pace, leaning back enough to watch himself slide into his lover’s wet heat. Groaning from the sight, he leaned over Edward, capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss. Pistoning himself in out, Roy moaned as Edward’s heat pulled him in deeper.

Edward groaned, stroking his lover’s tongue messily. He wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck, digging his fingernails into Roy’s broad shoulders. Roy angled himself and snapped his hips over and over, hitting the bundle of nerves just right.

“Roy! Fuck...yes... Yes!” Edward chanted over and over, screwing his eyes shut from the onslaught of pleasure. He groaned in frustration as Roy slowed down, rocking his hips gently into him.

“Open your eyes, mio tesoro. Vorrei annegare nei tuoi occhi,” Roy commanded, watching pleasure dance across Edward’s trembling form. He teasingly dragged his cock along Edward’s prostate slowly before withdrawing to where only the tip of his erection was snug inside his lover.

Edward whimpered, opening his eyes and letting loose a startled gasp as Roy roughly snapped his hips forwards before brutally attacking his prostate.

“I wonder, my Edward, can I make you cum without a single touch?” Roy purred, intertwining his fingers with Edward’s, pinning them above the younger man’s head. He quickly pulled out only to ram back in over and over again, hitting Edward’s prostate with each drag of his cock. He leaned down, capturing Edward’s cries with his mouth and stealing his lover’s breath away with each thrust. Shaking, Roy felt his orgasm approaching, building against his spine in heightened pleasure. Letting his thrusts become erratic, he pummeled into the smaller man brutally without giving him a moment to breathe.

Cursing, Edward writhed underneath Mustang, his body convulsing with each word of filthy promise spewing from Roy’s lips. He felt the warmth spreading across his body, down to his toes, sending spasms throughout his body.

“ _Fuck_ Roy! Yes! Fuckin’ god yes...Harder,” he sobbed, the pleasure becoming too much as Roy let his hands go, grabbing his hips roughly, using Edward to fuck himself onto Roy’s beautiful cock. With a shout, stars exploded behind his eyes as his pleasure coated Roy’s stomach in milky ribbons.

Roy moaned lowly as Edward’s tight heat swallowed him tighter. He continued to thrust into Edward with abandonment, watching his lover ride out his orgasm as he sought his own. Closing his eyes, he thrust one ...two more times before he came, coating Edward’s insides. Leaning down, Roy gently kissed his lover tenderly, cupping his face with his fingers, still buried deep inside of him.

Edward moaned, feeling Roy’s spent cock rub against him as he returned the kiss deeply. Smiling, he gazed at Roy as they broke apart, breathing deeply.

Roy slowly pulled out of his lover, flopping down onto his side. Silently, he reached over to his nightstand and fumbled around until he found his discarded shirt. Tenderly, Roy used it to wipe his lover’s stomach clean before tossing it onto the floor. He would deal with it later.

Smiling softly, Roy pulled Edward to him and tucked him into his side before covering them both with a nearby blanket. Inhaling the sweet scent of Edward mixed with sex, Roy rubbed his lover’s shoulders.

“Mi hai rubato il cuore,” Roy whispered into his hair, pressing a brief kiss and sliding his eyes closed.

Edward laid on top of Roy’s chest listening to the strong beating of Roy’s heart as he slept peacefully. Exhaling, he closed his eyes—Roy’s words piercing through his heart as he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse sighed and shook his head. Winry was chasing Edward around their apartment with a wrench screeching about her automail. He ducked while a wrench flew overhead narrowly missing him.

Hearing the doorbell ring, Alphonse scrambled up to get it. Ignoring their childish bickering, Al opened the door, grinning goofily at what greeted him. Fletcher stood before him smiling shyly. He leaned down placing a quick peck onto his boyfriend’s lips; the silence behind him forced him to turn around. Arching his eyebrow, Al started laughing at their dumbfounded faces.

“Sorry, Brother. Winry. Guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?” Al said sheepishly, ushering his lover into the apartment.

“We’re screwed. Win. Them together. Fuck, run for your life,” Edward said, flailing his arms dramatically. Edward hissed loudly doubling over; Winry had elbowed him.

“I think it's sweet,” Winry smiled, clasping her hands together, her eyes shining brightly.

“C’mon, Ed. Winry needs to fix you up before anyone gets here,” Alphonse said, dragging his brother by the collar towards the back room with Winry trailing behind him. Alphonse closed the door behind him, turning his attention back to his lover.

“S’rry love. Ed needs maintenance. He might get loud. Let's go get dinner before everyone gets here,” Al suggested, tucking an errant strand from Fletcher’s face.

“Sure, will he be ok?” Fletcher asked, concerned.

“Yeah, Winry’s done this a hundred times,” Al reassured, leading his lover out the door. Edward’s screams of pain echoed as it clicked closed.

 

* * *

 

Edward twisted his arm backwards, letting the joint settle with a grimace. He eyed the ground; his body rigid with tension at Winry’s silence.

“Win?” he called hoarsely, his voice still raw from his screaming. It always hurt like a bitch, forcing his nerves to feel like they were on fire each time.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Ed. But, I know its something serious. When I had asked you about those marks, you clammed up. I get it. I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she sighed, placing her tools back into her bag.

“I know,” Edward said, placing his shirt back on before working his pants back on. He stood, stumbling as he readjusted to the upgrades. Grabbing onto the table, he swore, sucking in a breath as the pain raced up his leg. Counting in his head, he waited for it pass, feeling Winry hovering near him. Looking up, Edward smiled and wiped at Winry’s watery eyes.

“I’m ok. I promise,” he said softly, hugging his childhood friend. “Now let’s go eat, I’m starving!”

 

* * *

 

He watched from the shadows, grinning widely; his target none the wiser. He watched them: the tall blond kissed the smaller one laughing. He paced behind them, weaving around the shoppers. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he watched with disgust as his mark whispered into the shorter one’s ears, which were turning an awful shade of red. They didn’t seem to have a care in the world. He giggled. Soon that would all change.

* * *

 

Edward smiled, enjoying the company around him. It had been so long since they were all gathered. Sheska was whispering into Kain’s ear turning the man a bright red; Winry telling her awful jokes making Fletcher laugh while he sat upon Al’s lap; Russell (funny how that didn’t sting anymore) buried in a corner reading the latest medical journal. It was nice. Glancing down at his phone, he sent a quick message informing Roy that he was studying at his brother’s.

Grabbing the files, Edward settled himself at the table, pulling each report out. He placed each one in piles according to relevance. Pulling his computer out, he tuned out their laughter and pulled up the police database.  Flickering his gaze towards his brother, he typed in his search, pulling all of the unsolved cases within the last decade. Skimming the reports, he printed them out making notations as he went. Jumping up at the smack of paper hitting the table, he eyed the faded paper placed in front of him.

“What’s this, Al?” he questioned, picking it up and skimming the headlines.

“I had an interesting visit with an associate. They told me to look into this,” Al said, grabbing a chair and straddling it. “Apparently, Sgt. Hughes was robbed on his way home one night. But his case never got solved.”

Edward licked his lips. He could feel pieces of information coming together. He quietly read the article before searching for the report in the database. Strangely enough, the report had been thoroughly redacted and classified. Smirking, Edward let his fingertips fly across the keyboard, gaining access to the file with an ease that any hacker would be proud of.

Edward skimmed through it and swore. “He was IB, Al. Apart of deep investigation of the department,” Edward murmured, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares on him.

“This is bigger than us. So much bigger. But, I don’t know how big. Something doesn’t add up. It never has. The murders, the old cases, the drugs—it’s something else. I know it,” he said, staring at each of their faces. “This could go south for us. If you want out, leave.”

“Edward,” Sheska began, light refracting off her glasses. “We’re always with you and Al. You put us together. Now, let’s see what we can find.”

Edward smiled and handed her the unsolved murders. “Find the similarities, even the smallest detail could be the link we need.”

He quickly divided the reports out to each member of his team, feeling their confidence in him.

“Like you could do it without us, shorty,” Russell chimed in, picking up the medical files and walking away.

“Who the fuck are you calling so short that he get lost in a paper stack?”  Ed shouted to his back, turning an embarrassing shade of red at everyone’s laughter. Taking a deep breath, Edward walked back into the living room. The room had transformed: file boxes set up in different corners,  reports swapping hands, notes being scribbled, his team pacing back and forth. It felt like home. Clearing his throat, he looked at them evenly.

“This is kept between us. No paper trail. Kain encrypt everything. No one utters this to anyone,” Edward warned before they engrossed themselves into their tasks. Sighing, Edward glanced towards his brother. “Guess I need to pay the Widow Hughes a visit.”

 

* * *

 

Edward opened the door to his loft slowly. The back of his neck was burning, something didn’t feel right. Flipping on the light switch, he flung his knife towards the couch only for it to be caught between two fingers.

“Dear little _brother_ , is that how you greet your betters?” an annoying voiced called.

Growling, Edward stalked over to his couch, wrenching his knife away from Kateus. He flopped onto his arm chair, glaring at the intruder.

“What do you want?” he snapped, sheathing his knife into his boot.

“Oh! You wound me, Pipsqueak. I was _so_ very worried about you with everything that’s happened,” Kateus simpered, dramatically placing a hand on his forehead in mock distress.

“Worried. About. Me,” Edward punctuated, narrowing his eyes at the higher ranking detective.

“Why, yes. After WIlliams,” Kateus smirked, standing up. Edward watched apprehensively as Kateus took measured steps towards him before leaning down next to his ear. “We wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to you, dear _Edward_.”

Edward sat speechless for a moment, hearing the underlying threat in Kateus’ words. His mind going a mile a minute. “Is that all, sir?” he clipped, standing up and putting distance between them.

“I’m glad we understand each other, Edward. Mom expects an update,” he smiled, setting Edward’s teeth on edge. “See ya around, Pipsqueak.”

Edward exhaled loudly once the door clicked closed. Swearing, he ran a hand down his face before carefully inspecting his loft ensuring everything is how it should be. Sending a quick text to Kain, he sat down on the couch and laid his head to rest on his knees. _Just fuck._

 

* * *

 

Music thrummed around him, vibrating against the walls as the beat pulsed. His people flitted back and forth, ensuring business ran smoothly. The laughter of his clients mixed with sinful moans showcased his success. Roy leaned his head backwards and stared at his Hawk.

“Yao?”

“Been busy entertaining our contacts, sir,” Hawkeye replied matter of factly. “They should be here tonight, sir.”

“Very well,” Roy said, snapping his fingers. Taking the proffered scotch, he sipped at it, eyeing those around him. He would need to make sure the Senator did his part. Ruefully, he ran his fingers through his hair, setting his drink on a nearby table. Crossing his legs, he turned himself towards Havoc. “Is everything ready for our guests?”

“Yes, sir,” Havoc smiled, chewing on the end of his cigarette. “Made sure to get the finest.”

Nodding, Roy smiled widely as the room grew oppressively silent. He knew only one person with that effect on people. Chuuya Nakahara, top executive of the Port Mafia was sauntering towards him: his black jacket framing his ridiculously petite body, billowing behind him.

“Nakahara-sensei, I do hope Yao has been a gracious host to you,” Roy bowed deeply, his back ram rod straight. “I apologize for my neglect.”

“Roy-kun, what did I say?” his guest drawled, placing a hand on his hip, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

Righting himself, Roy closed the distance between his guest and him. “Chuuya-sensei, I hope Yao behaved for you,” he said, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on his guest’s cheek.

“Oi. Bastard knows better,” Chuuya chuckled, snapping his fingers. Without preamble, a wine glass appeared, its liquid swirling from the quick movements of Roy’s pets. He watched as his mentor sniffed the drink before tasting it gracefully.

“Cabernet sauvignon, trying to butter me up mon loup?” Chuuya smirked, setting himself on Mustang’s throne and spreading his jacket out around him. Looking up, the redhead patted the spot next to him.

“Never. Only the best for you, ma chérie,” Roy purred, sitting down next to his guest. He smiled at his mentor’s laughter, rich like honey, as he savored the wine. Roy waited patiently as Chuuya sat the wine glass down before piercing him with his azure gaze, assessing him.

“How’s business?” Chuuya asked, pulling himself into Roy’s lap and straddling him. Raking a gloved hand through his hair, Chuuya yanked it backwards, tilting Roy’s head upwards. Inhaling sharply, Mustang stared unflinching back at his petite mentor.

“Moving as normal,” he replied evenly, holding his breath as the smaller man leaned in closer to him hovering over his lips.

“Is it, Roy-kun? The Port Mafia has heard some rumours. Rumours that the boss doesn’t take kindly to,” Chuuya growled, twisting his fingers hard into Mustang’s locks, placing the silver barrel of his Spitfire underneath Mustang’s chin.

“Yes, boss. It’s being taken care of,” Mustang whispered, shuddering involuntarily. He pressed his chin firmly against the barrel. He kept his expression neutral, never breaking contact with the man on top of him.

“Syaitan?” his boss breathed against his lips, cocking the trigger to his gun, letting his hand slide over the red scar on Mustang’s neck. The music thrummed around them, beating into a sultry tone as the groans of of pleasure reached their ears from the clients lost in their desires. Mustang’s men watched silently, knowing not to interfere. It would be deadly; Nakahara-san owned them.

“Making their move,” he breathed, tasting Chuuya's wine rich breath.

The executive smiled widely before capturing Mustang’s lips with his own. Keeping the gun firmly in place, he nudged Mustang’s lips apart, tasting the ‘77 Jura Vintage Scotch lingering behind. Sucking on Mustang’s tongue, he moaned, tasting the sweet taste of smoke mixed with honey. Rocking his hips forward, Chuuya groaned as Mustang’s stupidly large hands settle on his hips. Breaking apart, Chuuya ran a glove hand along Mustang’s jaw line tenderly.

“Mon loup, have you missed me?” he purred, nipping at Mustang’s obsidian earring.

Mustang moaned dark and low. It never ceased to surprise him how much the small redhaired executive affected him so. Leaning over Chuuya’s gun, ignoring the discomfort against his chin, Mustang sucked the executive’s bottom lip, nibbling at it in answer. Thrusting his hips upwards, Mustang whimpered as Chuuya rubbed against him. Mustang sucked in a breath at the sight of his boss arching backwards, his fedora tipping slightly and showing off beautiful red curls of hair;  lips parted; neck arched where his choker gleamed in the light as his jacket fluttered to the floor; his beautiful eyes wide with lust as he rocked against him. Leaning forward, Mustang kissed along the creamy skin of his mentor, sucking lightly around the choker.

Chuuya let loose a hearty laugh, tossing his gun to the side of the couch. Leaning into Mustang’s ministrations, he ran his fingers through the dark locks, canting his hips to have their twin erections slide together. Mustang’s sharp intake of breath told him of his success. Trailing his fingers across Roy’s jawline, he lifted the older man’s chin up, grasping it. He enjoyed the way Mustang looked right now: pilant underneath him, dark eyes seared with lust, completely at his mercy. It was wonderful.  

Wrapping his arms around Mustang, Chuuya pulled at the nape of Mustang’s neck, slanting his lips over his in a soul devouring kiss, all teeth and biting. Chuuya swallowed Mustang’s cries, grinding against him wantonly. _Merde_. His wolf was _divine_.

Mustang pulled back, licking Chuuya’s lips tenderly. “The boss?” he husked, letting his hands guide Chuuya in his rocking motions.

“Fuckin’ waste of bandages, doesn’t get a fuckin’ say, Roy-kun,” Chuuya snarled, capturing Mustang’s sweet mouth once again. Forcing his way in, he devoured Roy, leaving the man breathless. The startled intake of breath the only thing breaking apart their reunion. Chuuya twisted himself half way, eyeing the blond boy staring at them, mouth open.

“Mon loup, qui est l’enfant?” he said sickly sweet, his eyes shining darkly at being interrupted.

“Who the fuck are you calling a kid?” Edward bellowed, his fury vibrating throughout his entire being.

Chuuya grinned and turned himself around, making sure to rock his hips while grinding his ass into Mustang’s obvious erection. His eyes flickered dangerously and he swiftly grabbed his dagger flinging it towards the child. The blade stopping a few scants centimeters from Edward's feet, embedded deeply into the wood.

“I’d be careful, mon grand. I don’t miss,” the executive advised, leaning backwards and placing a chaste kiss to Mustang’s throat.

Edward stood there, his emotions flitting across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it at Mustang’s dark look directed at him. Swallowing thickly, he spun around, forcing his tears back. _Fuck._ This was a case. It shouldn’t bother him who Ro-Mustang fucked.

“Mustang, when you aren’t _busy_ , we...we need to talk,” he hissed, not caring if he heard him before descending down the stairs and disappearing from view.

 

* * *

 

Roy flung his legs over the side of his monstrous sized bed, grabbing his cell phone. Swiping it open, he clicked on his messages. According to his phone, all of them left unread. Deftly his long fingers slid along the keyboard, typing his hundredth message; he paused over the send button, hesitating.

He looked over his shoulder at the petite redhead burrowed in his bed and set his phone down, the message left unsent. Placing his head into his hands, he swore. He could end it right now. They could go their separate ways. Edward would be safe and he could carry out his plans. It be would easy. He could bar Edward from the club. Make sure that no one touched him when things fell into place. He could resume his life like nothing ever happened.

Placing a hand on his phone, the indecision waring with him as he stared at the ridiculous photo in the background. It had been an impulse. Almost like they were normal people having a normal day. They had gone to the park and then it started to rain. He had grabbed Edward and kissed him, laughing heartily as the rain soaked them. One of his men had snapped the photo. Edward didn’t even know it existed. They looked…happy.

Roy stared at the photo, not caring how much time had passed as he warred with himself. A soft smile spread across his face as the realization dawned on him. He was screwed. He couldn’t let him go. Opening his messages, he clicked the send button, ignoring the soft kiss to his shoulder.

“Mon loup, come back to bed,” the sleepy voice behind him purred into his ear, a wicked hand trailing down his side.

Shaking his head, Roy stood up, grabbing his boss’ hand. Placing a soft kiss to his knuckles, he smiled dashingly and locked his eyes with blue ones.

“This won’t go well for you, Roy-kun. He’s a liability,” Chuuya whispered, cupping Roy’s jaw tenderly.

“I know,” Roy answered, pressing a soft kiss into his sensei’s palm before walking towards the closet, pausing by the doorway. “Without him, sensei, la vita non ha più senso.”

 

* * *

 

Edward tipped the bottle, gulping its contents down with ease. Settling the dark bottle down on the floor next to him, Edward leaned his head against the couch. Feeling his phone vibrate, he glanced at it before chucking it away from him. Fuckin’ bastard.

This was supposed to be a simple case: find the damning evidence; link it to the murders and take them down. He shouldn't have notice how well he treats his men or his obvious contradictions or his stupid morals...Fuckin’ hell. Grabbing the bottle again, he gulped it down, enjoying the burn down his throat. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Edward screwed his eyes shut.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. He knew fuck... he knew. But seeing it, especially after…had been a knife into his heart. _Why the fuck did he let it get this far?_

Edward pulled his legs into him, curling his body around his knees, enjoying the coolness the metal offered him against his warm cheek. He let his tears fall silently into the night.

He sat there, his gaze unfocused while the alcohol buzzed through him. He played it over and over in his head again. Somewhere along the lines... he lost and now he was paying for it.

Jumping at the loud banging noise coming from his front door, Edward groaned, slowly getting up, his joints stiff from sitting there so long. Keeping the lights off, Edward staggered to the door, wiping at his eyes. With a heavy sigh, Edward cracked open his door, leaning against the frame and narrowing his eyes.

“Come to collar me?” he growled, trying to slam the door. A foot wedged itself in between the door and the frame, preventing him from closing it. Golden eyes flashed as they locked onto sorrowful dark eyes.

“Edward, let me in,” Mustang whispered softly, nudging the door open enough for him to slip through. Snarling, Edward backed away from the son of a bitch, putting as much distance as possible between them.

“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want. Mustang,” Edward spat, each word punctuated more viciously than the last. His entire body shook with unbridled fury towards the man in front of him.

Sighing, Mustang closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He slowly began to approach Edward, careful not to rush towards him. He could feel the tension broiling between them. Edward looked ready to pounce given any slight provocation.

“Edward,” Mustang began, stopping just a few feet from the smaller man. “You knew who and what I am. That doesn’t stop just because of this,” Roy gestured between the two of them, oblivious to the thin line he was treading.

“Yes, you’re King of the Goddamn Underworld, ready to service anyone with your cock,” Edward replied sarcastically. “An overpriced _troia!_ ”

Mustang clenched his teeth together, his jaw ticking in irritation as he closed the distance between him.

“Oh glorious King of Cock, what do I _owe_ you for _your pleasure_ tonight,” Edward hissed, bowing dramatically and daring Roy with an arch of his eyebrow. “ _Oh!_ I know. This is where I receive the glorious honour of becoming your pet.”

“Edward, _enough_ ,” Roy said darkly, reaching out to grab Edward.

Edward sidestepped him, grabbing his wrist with his hand, eyes narrowing dangerously at the asshole before him.

“I know what you are, Mustang. But, I got caught up in you. The man behind the mask. Only to have it slapped back into my face,” Edward barked, his face darkening with each word. “Stole your heart did I? What a laugh.” Edward’s laughter rang hollow throughout the loft.

Releasing Mustang, he stepped towards his couch and grabbed the bottle on the floor. Taking a swig, he eyed the man in front him dressed in only a shirt and jeans with his hair tousled.

“You’d have to have a heart first,” Edward laughed darkly, stumbling towards the kitchen and ignoring the man following him.

“Edward, I meant wha—”

“Oh, did you?” Edward whirled around, poking Mustang in the chest with his finger. “Did you fuck him? Did you let him ride you until you screamed?” Edward glared up at Mustang, each word dripping in venom.

Mustang’s silence was damning enough for Edward. He hurled the bottle of whiskey at the wall behind Mustang, enjoying the shattering of the glass as it fell to floor. Edward stared darkly at the man he had lost his heart to foolishly.

“Is this where you tell me that I’m your treasure? Or is this where you put me in my place, Roy? Shall I wear a jewelled collar for you? We all know how much you _love_ your pets. Shall I get on my knees and lick his boots while you fuck him?” Edward sneered, going down to his knees and moving his blond hair to the side. “Go on, Mustang. Ya know you want to collar me.”

Scoffing at Mustang’s frozen stare, he stood up and headed for the sink. Edward turned back around only for Mustang to grab his wrist again. Spinning on his heel, Edward let his fist fly punching Roy straight in the face with all of his force.

Mustang staggered backwards, cupping his face, feeling the blood dribble down his chin. Smirking, he wiped the blood off his chin, observing the tension roiling through Edward. He looked haggard with dark circles under his eyes, his golden locks flying wildly, his bare chest heaving from the exertion. He was beautiful.

“Edward, this isn’t some fairytale where a prince is gonna come carry you off to the sunset,” Mustang taunted, crowding the younger man against the sink. “I live in a dark world. There is no right or wrong. Only survival. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that.”

“Whatever it takes, Roy?” Edward spat, clenching his fist. “Did that include Richard?”

Mustang sighed heavily, pinching the bridge to his nose. Well played, indeed. Staring intently at Edward, he let the minutes tick by, as he searched the younger man’s face.

“Richard was an unfortunate result,” he said slowly, tucking a stray hair behind Edward’s ear. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

Mustang leaned down and cupped the younger man’s jaw. He smiled victoriously as Edward leaned into his palm, giving him a chance to press a small chaste kiss against his lips.  He wasn’t prepared for Edward to hook his leg behind his knee before grabbing his arm in a vice like grip and throwing him down in a move that any wrestler would have been proud of. Edward stared down at the so-call King, placing his bare foot against his neck.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” he snapped, applying just a little bit of pressure, watching Mustang turn a wonderful shade of purple before releasing him.

Mustang took a deep breath, his frown deepening as he stood up. Straightening his clothes, he turned to face Edward clearing his throat.

“I see. You need more time, mio tesoro,” Roy rasped, walking towards the door. He grasped the door handle, turning to just enough to look Edward dead in the eyes.

“I’ll give you your space, for now. But I meant what I said, Edward. Ti voglio sempre avere al mio fianco. Il mio cuore batte solo per te,” Roy whispered softly, walking out the door.

“A fanabla,” Edward screamed, grabbing the nearest object and hurling it at the closing door, shattering it instantly.

The weight of his words settled deep within Edward’s soul as the door clicked shut, leaving Edward to crumble to the floor as sobs wracked his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come join me on [ Tumblr.](https://stargazerlilith.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, Time for an update! Can't believe only three more chapters are left... Things are gonna start getting interesting and bumpy from here on out. As for my health, I am recovering and making progress. Thank you to everyone who has worried over me. And of course thank you for the kudos and comments. I treasure each of them! Enjoy!

* * *

 

Roy ran a hand through his hair, tugging gently at the ends in frustration.  Edward’s words had haunted him since that night.  He had become what he needed to be to survive in this world. It was a hell of his own making that his tesoro just couldn’t begin to understand. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Lounging against his throne, he eyed his kingdom around him with disinterest. He just didn’t care; Yao would take care of it. Right now, he just wanted to be lost in his misery. There had to be a way to make Edward understand what he had said was true.

Sighing dramatically, he frowned at the clatter of dishes as they hit the floor. Roy straightened himself up and glowered at the pet, who was picking up broken pieces with trembling hands. Before he could give a scathing reprimand, Havoc appeared in his vision. The usually jovial man was frowning at him, his customary cigarette missing. Mustang quirked his eyebrow, staring intently at the blue-eyed man.

“Do you have something to say, Havoc?” he inquired, grabbing his scotch and downing it in one gulp.

Havoc bowed his head and let out a shaky breath, which furthered Mustang’s curiosity. He watched carefully as Havoc wringed his hands, squeezing a pack of cigarettes between them.

“Sir?” Havoc paused, taking a deep breath, “Breda has informed me that _he_ is here. Downstairs.”

Mustang sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. He stood up and ignored the scrambling around him. He made his way to the railing and leaned over it, searching.  

Down on the dance floor, Edward shone more brightly than any jewel Roy had ever seen.  Gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white, he watched his tesoro dance obscenely with another man.  Roy let go of the railing and stalked down stairs; his presence screamed danger to those around them.

Everything around him disappeared—nothing could reach him as he sought out his target. He couldn’t hear the shouts directed towards him. He didn’t see how the world parted around him as he sought his prize. The only thing he saw was Edward grinding against someone else. He moved closer, edging around Edward’s line of vision. He watched silently.

Edward bent his body downwards and popped his hips in time with the music, his black leather pants leaving nothing to the imagination.  His Edward was a cocky little shit; he would give him that. No one would dare to do this.

No, no one, but his tesoro.

Edward seemed oblivious to him as he wrapped a hand against the stranger’s neck. His black shirt rode up while he danced, and the red lettering glittered in the dim lightly, catching Roy’s attention. He swore loudly. Only his Edward would be brave enough to wear such a statement—Mustang’s _Favorite_ Pet.

Roy let his dark gaze travel the rest of the man that had turn his world upside down. He stopped his leering at the metallic red around his neck. _Fucking hell!_ Ed, his Edward, was wearing a collar held together by an intricate design that connected to a leash loop. Mustang followed the line of the danity leash, snarling at the sight of it clasped tightly in the stranger’s hand. He never noticed Edward’s golden gaze that locked onto his. The world had faded around him and all he saw was red. _How dare he?_

It wasn’t until the cock of the gun reached his ears that he blinked at his surroundings. He tilted his head as the barrel of a gun pressed against the base of his skull. Glancing down, he arched an eyebrow at the knife against his throat and his subordinates wrapped around his waist. Locking his eyes with his mentor’s fiery blue, he sighed and clenched his hand around the soft flesh within his grasp. Scowling, he broke eye contact with his mentor and looked at the stranger darkly, wishing he could crush his windpipe for touching Edward in such a manner.

He was not a pet. He was so much _more._ That thought alone had enough force to send Mustang reeling.   _Dammit!_

Dropping the man to the floor, Mustang bent down and pressed his mentor’s blade more firmly into his throat, hard enough to draw blood. He waited patiently, trying not to delight in the stranger’s gasps of air.  The tension in the room was palpable as everyone waited to see what would happen. Feeling the gun and the dagger removed, Mustang approached the man in front him and crouched down.

“Next time, ti ammazzo,” he murmured near the man’s ear. “Be thankful for them. Get out.”

Mustang didn’t wait to to see if the man would heed his words. He straightened himself up. He caught the concern looks of his subordinates and gave them a reassuring nod. He had much to think about. He paused halfway up the steps, staring down at the hand clasped over his wrist.

“Roy-kun, we have much to discuss,” Chuuya commanded darkly, his voice dripping with promised pain. “Yao, get the car. We’re leaving.” Mustang didn’t miss the gleefully look on his partner’s face. _Just fuck._

 

* * *

 

 

Roy wiped the blood from his face, discarding the towel on the floor. Stripping off his shirt, he threw it into the bin. The shreds of satin were no longer of any use. He had lost his control and had paid for it dearly. Reaching to his side, he eyed the lacerations on his side, measuring their length. Grabbing the bandages, he unrolled it and started to roll it around. He hissed as it made contact with his skin.

“You know, all of this could’ve been avoided had you just let me have him,” Yao clucked from the doorway, leaning against the frame. “But, you had to be so _Greedy_.”

“Shut up, Yao. Now’s not the time,” Roy hissed through clenched teeth, dropping the roll of bandages. Swearing, he clutched the sink and bowed his head. “You would’ve broken him, Yao. Both sides of you.”

“And you didn’t?” Yao challenged, crossing over to him. He gently picked up the roll of bandages and began to wrap them around Mustang’s midsection. Mustang took in a ragged breath, focusing on Yao’s tender care instead of the pain searing through him.

“Hmm, I see Chuuya-san wanted to make a point,” Yao hummed, tying the bandage off. Brushing Roy’s hair from his face, Yao stared at him intently, his eyes flickering dangerously. Mustang shifted uneasily as Yao’s hand trailed down his face. He locked gazes with his partner, watching his fury become etch into his face.

“But, you almost cost us everything with that display,” Yao seethed, backhanding Mustang harshly and leaving blood to dribble down his face. He wiped the back of his hand on Mustang’s bandages, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Yao gave a bone chilling grin at the purpling across Roy’s face.

“Stop acting like a little piss ant, Mustang. Dazai-san will be here in the next few months. Get your shit together before then,” Yao barked, sauntering out the door with a dismissive wave.

Roy glared at his reflection, hating the weakness he was displaying. He had work too hard to have it crumbling now. With a growl, he punched the mirror, leaving it a shattered mess behind him.

He had to work to do. He was done with these games.

 

* * *

 

 

Edward smiled warmly at the widow Hughes, ignoring the vibrating phone in his pocket. He knew who it was and he wasn’t going to talk to the bastard. He had work to do.

“I apologize ma’am. I’m Detective Elric with the homicide division. Would you have a moment to speak with me? It’s concerning your late husband, Sergeant Hughes. “

“Oh, yes of course,” Ms. Hughes said, moving away from the door and welcoming him in. She took his coat, placing it in the closet.  “Please have a seat Detective, I’ll go fetch some tea.”

Edward watched her disappear through a door.  Sighing, he peered around the room and noticed many pictures of Hughes’  life together. He smiled as he picked up a frame of a little brown haired girl with big eyes, smiling widely at the camera.

“Maes would’ve loved her. He loved her before she even graced us. I wish with my all my heart...that he could’ve known what a sweetheart our Elicia is. My only hope is that I can keep his memory alive, Detective,” the light voice of Ms. Hughes whispered, setting the tea tray on the small coffee table. Nodding, Edward set the picture down, crossing over towards her.

“Ms. Hughes, I apologize for taking some of your time. You have a lovely home. I need to know what your husband was working on before he died. Anything he might of told you could help,” Edward said as he sat gently down on the floral couch. He took the proffered cup of tea with a murmured ‘thank you’.

“Detective Elric, I don’t know how much help I can be. Maes…” Ms. Hughes quavered, pausing in her stirring and releasing a heavy breath, “Maes kept his job separate from our home. He’d always joke that this was his sanctuary and he never wanted me to worry...”

“Ms. Hughes, I apologize for this. I understand, but anything you might remember could possibly help.”

Edward waited as Ms. Hughes took a deep breath, collecting herself. He would’ve been blind not to notice the watering of her eyes as she struggled to remain strong. “He did most of his work in his office. He kept it locked and I...I never had the nerve to go in there. You might find what you’re looking for in there, Detective.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hughes for all of your help with this matter.”

She nodded and stood up. Edward placed his tea onto the low coffee table and followed her towards the backroom. Opening the door with a creak, he stepped inside. He turned towards Mrs. Hughes.

“Let me know if you need anything, Detective,” she whispered, rushing away from the room before Edward could say ‘thank you’.

Looking around the room, he careful opened the drawers and shifted through the contents. He skimmed through nonconsequential reports; notebooks filled with notations; dozens of pictures of his wife littered the area. Sitting down in the overstuffed chair, Edward swiveled. He casted a critical eye over the contents on top of the desk:  ink stains embedded into the wood; pens littered about; a framed picture of him and his wife glowing with happiness; an ultrasound framed within a heart. He gingerly picked up the frame, studying the man in the photo.

“Just what are you hiding,” Edward muttered, fingering along the desk searchingly. Finding a small nub of wood, Edward pressed into it. He grinned as an audible click echoed around the room. Sliding the hidden drawer forwards, Edward peered inside of it. Carefully, he picked up the bluish journal and flipped through the pages. Mutterings of jargon greeted his eyes that appeared not to make any sense.

Edward smirked. It was code. Placing the journal inside his coat pocket, he rifled through the rest of the contents before coming across a black book. Sliding it free, Edward stared in shock at the photos that tumbled out of it: staring back at him was the King of the Underworld smiling goofily at the camera, dressed in uniform blues with his arm slung around Hughes’ shoulder. Picking it up, he flipped it over reading the words numbly: Graduation Day May 6, 2005.

It always came back to him. Truly, there was no escape. Edward closed his eyes, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. Stuffing the book into his coat, Edward carefully placed everything back into order. He walked stiffly to the door and wiped at his eyes before exiting. Closing the door with a soft click, he walked his walk through the apartment. Edward smiled politely and bowed his head giving Ms. Hughes a polite, but hasty goodbye before leaving the Hughes. He had a King to find and demand some fuckin’ answers. It was time for the bastard to fess up.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mustang, tell me the fuckin’ truth, you bastard! Who the fuck was Sgt. Maes to you?” Edward bellowed, slapping the picture on the desk.

“Well hello to you too, Edward. What a wonderful way to greet someone who you haven’t seen in _weeks_?” Mustang drawled, arching an elegant brow. He leaned forwards and reached for the picture with a sigh.

“The Truth, Mustang,” Edward growled, slamming the palms of his hand against the desk. He stared straight into the devil’s eyes. Ed inhaled sharply as Mustang stood up and carefully walked towards him, causing the hairs on his neck to stand up.

“ _That. Is. None. Of. Your. Concern. Edward_ ,” Mustang harshly corrected, looming over him, clenching his fists at his side. “Have you come to talk, _finally_? Or are you still acting like a petulant child?”

“This isn’t about that, Mustang. It’s my fuckin’ concern, your royal _highness_. I saw the fuckin’ pictures. Tell me the goddamn truth for fuckin’ once.”

“Oh no, Edward we _are_ going to talk about what happened! That stunt you pulled with that man? Did you not care if I killed him? Seeing his hands on you with that damn chain, how did you think I would react seeing you like _that_?”

“Fuck off, Mustang. We both know that’s how you see me! Your prized fuckin’ pet. It was you who lost control,” Edward raged, poking Mustang in the chest with each word. “This isn’t about us. This about Hughes. The truth, Mustang.”

“The truth dear Edward? The Truth, Mr. _Hoh-en-heim_ —I know who you are. I’ve always known exactly where your loyalties lie, _Detective Edward Elric_ ,” Mustang bit out, forcing Edward backwards, caging him.

Edward glared at the arrogant man in front of him and pushed against him. “Fuck you! If that's true, why the fuck did you keep me around? Very incriminating for you Mr. _Fuckin’ King_ of the Goddamn Underworld, Roy _fuckin’_ Mustang,” he bellowed, breathing heavily.

“To give you a good chase, _Detective._ Keep your enemies closer—” Roy snarled, pinning him against the wall and holding his wrists above his head. “ _Edward Elric_ youngest officer in Amestris, patchy history, never loses a case, ordered to take down _The. Big. Bad. Wolf._ ”

“ _Fuck you, you cocky ass bastard_. That's not fucki—” Edward hissed as Roy’s lips pressed against his in a brutal kiss, silencing him. Struggling against him, Edward leaned into the kiss and bit at the fucker’s lips.

Slamming Edward’s wrists against the wall, Roy growled and nipped at the blond’s neck in retaliation. Moaning, his tesoro tossed his head back against the wall and wrapped his legs around him. Smirking, Roy licked a wet trail against the column of Edward’s throat as he made his way back to his lips. He slowly began to loosen his grip on the blond’s hands.

Delving his tongue into Roy’s hot mouth, Edward arched into Roy. He groaned as the spicy taste of whiskey mixed with Roy danced along his tongue. _Fuck._ He had missed this. He wrapped his arms around Mustang’s neck and pulled himself closer, trying to steady himself.

Grabbing Edward’s sweet delicious backside, Roy maneuvered them away from the wall as Edward yanked on the short hairs on the nape of his neck. Moaning, Roy freed one arm and swiped the contents of the desk off.

Setting Edward onto the edge of the desk, Roy claimed his mouth and swallowed the man’s cries. He tore open his tesoro’s satin shirt, sending buttons flying across the room. Placing open mouth kisses along Edward’s jawline, Roy made his way to his pulse point and sucked, making sure to leave his claim.

Arching into Roy’s ministrations, Edward slipped his fingers under the silk shirt.  He dug his nails into Roy’s back, leaving welts behind. Wrapping his legs around Roy’s waist, he began to grind against him, seeking friction.

Ed groaned huskily as Roy yanked him backwards by his braid, blowing hotly on his nipple after suckling lightly. Screwing his eyes shut at the sensation, Edward laid down on the desk, writhing and moaning wantonly. Roy crouched over him and circled his nipple with his very talented tongue. Shivering from pleasure shooting down his spine, Edward leaned up and nipped at Roy’s ear.

“Too much goddamn clothes, Roy” he growled, bucking his hips upwards.

Smirking, Roy lifted up and slowly unbuttoned his silk shirt one button at time. Edward watched dazedly, licking his lips as Roy’s skin was revealed to him with new bandages, obscuring his view.

Roy’s smirk grew wicked. He felt a wave of pleasure wash over him from the hungry look Edward was giving him. He leaned down to capture Edward’s mouth again, feeling the muscular thighs of the man below him squeeze him. He was not prepared for Edward to flip him over, reversing their positions. Moaning, Roy revealed in the display of dominance, gazing up at the young Detective.

Edward slowly began to trace his tribal tattoo with his mouth, letting his fingers trail along the bandages wrapped around his stomach. Edward looked up at him questioningly, shrugging at Roy’s shake of his head. Bucking upwards, Roy moaned as Edward began a torturous descent down his body. Roy arched upwards in pleasure as Edward’s fingertips grazed his straining shaft.

Smirking, Edward slowly peeled the offending clothing away, nipping at his thighs playfully. Standing above his lover, Edward took in the most powerful man raw and vulnerable in front of him. His lover’s skin glistening with sweat; his scars shining like badges of honour against his porcelain skin as his golden tattoo danced with each heavy breath. Not even the white bandages took away from his allure. His dark eyes glazed over with lust and his head tilted in pleasure as Edward’s fingers lightly danced over his skin.

“Glorious,” he breathed, licking the underside of Roy’s well endowed size. Chuckling at the sharp intake of breath, Edward blew on the tip of the twitching appendage before swallowing it to the root.

Bucking his hips into the sweet cavern, Roy whimpered as Edward set up a rhythm.  He sucked and swirled his tongue in agonizing torture, Roy cries of pleasure encouraging him as he  reached down and fondled his sac.

Roy trembled from the pleasure shooting down his spine, leaving him breathless as it built. Tangling his hands into blond locks, Roy bucked into his lover’s mouth. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Edward’s mouth stretched around his cock. Groaning, he thrusted again and slammed his head against the desk, the pleasure dancing in waves down his spine. He needed to get Edward to stop.

“Edward! Stop... I don’t want to... cum yet,” he whined, yanking on the man’s braid. Letting go with a loud plop, Edward licked his lips and crawled off of him. Edward smirked at the debauched man laying in front of him as he shimmied out of his tight pants. He crawled over his lover and kneeled over his erection.

Licking his fingers, he reached behind himself, teasing himself before inserting a finger. Pumping the finger in and out, he added another as a firm grip grasped his reddened erection, stroking him teasingly.

“Fuuuck,” he whimpered against the slight burn, adding another finger, pumping in and out. Narrowing his eyes, Roy pulled Edward’s fingers away, sucking each one lightly and tracing them with his tongue. The keening noises from his young lover spurred him on.

“Edward, drawer,” he panted, rubbing his hardened length against his young lover’s cleft. Nodding, Edward leaned over, yanking the drawer open before rummaging for the small bottle.

“Always prepared aren’t you?” Edward mused, dripping the oil on his lover’s shaft. Grinning, Edward slid his hands teasingly over his lover’s erection, generously coating it before lining himself up. Slowly, he eased himself on top of his lover’s wonderful shaft. He hissed at the slight burn and the tingling of his lower back.

Bucking upwards, Roy seated himself fully into the tight heat of his lover, gazing at the young Detective, his tesoro. Perfect olive skin glistening with exertion as Edward slowly eased himself into a beautiful pace. Rocking his hips back and forth, Edward moaned wickedly above him.

His beautiful scars mixed with the swirling black ink of his heart—a testament to his will—stood out proudly as his lover arched, shutting his golden eyes in ecstasy; his braid loosened with each thrust, letting those glorious locks spill free as he canted his hips. Simply put, his Edward, his treasure, was gloriously breathtaking. Leaning forwards and panting, Edward languidly kissed him; his tongue toying with the small barbell, suckling it. Roy shook as pleasure shot through him and moaned deeply. Placing a hand on his chest, Edward began to ride him hard, clenching around him and taking him deeper.

Gripping Edward’s sweat slicked hips, he began to match Edward’s brutal rhythm. Leaning up, Roy nipped at Edward’s chest and increased his thrusts with each nip. Moaning, Edward lost himself to the sensations flooding his body as each thrust left him wanting more.

Seizing the moment, Roy flipped them over, never missing a beat as he thrust into the writhing blond below him. Shifting to the side, Roy began to pound into his lover, finding the sweet spot hidden within his tesoro.

Whimpering, Edward began to see stars at the relentlessly pounding against his prostate. He moaned as warm fingers wrapped around his length, stroking him in time with Roy’s thrusts. Gasping as shots of pleasure travelled down his spine, his ball sac tightened as his lover tormented him.

“Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum Roy. _Oh! Fuck,_ ” he cried as his pleasure spilled into his lover’s awaiting hand in thick white ropes. Roy groaned as his orgasm overtook him; his lover’s sweet heat tightening around him. Collapsing forwards, he rested his sweaty head against his lover’s chest.

Standing up, Roy began to right himself, enjoying the view of the thoroughly debauched Edward. Quietly, he walked towards the small table and picked up a handkerchief. He gently began to clean his lover up. Smiling, he leaned down and gently kissed the man. Lovingly, he began to fix his lover's disarray.

Tugging Edward off the desk, he lead the man to the black leather couch, sitting him on it. Releasing a sigh, Roy raked a hand through his hair and watched Edward lounge against the black leather upholstery. He looked like he belong there.

God, he wanted him to, but that would depend on how things went from here. At the end of the day, they were from two different worlds. He knelt down near the hearth, taking a poker and arranging the logs.

"So, you want me to trust you, Edward? You’re a cop. Everything you have seen, I’ve let you. But, I am suppose to trust the man who has been lying to me all this time?" Roy questioned, letting his hair fall into his face.

"Mustang... that’s rich and damn lie. We’ve lied to each other. I need to know the truth. Then and only then,  I can make my judgement from there," Edward replied, staring Mustang in the eyes.

Lighting his lighter, Roy generously lit up a stick and tossed it into the hearth. Moments of silence stretched, the tension boiling between the two as Mustang watched the logs catch. The flames in the heart began to dance as life breathed into them.

"He was my best friend, Edward. We were young and we were so very stupid."

 

* * *

 

Roy smiled as Hughes hung an arm around his neck. "Maes, I did it. I joined the academy. Now we can go fight crime together," a young Roy beamed at his long time best friend.

"Alright! The police force will never know what hit them, Roy. We’ll become the best of the best,” Maes beamed, snapping their picture with his camera.

"Damn straight! Then, I’ll become commissioner and you’ll be right there with me, Maes."

* * *

 

The graduating class of a hundred police officers stood at attention in the hot sun, sweat sliding down their faces as they waited for the ceremony to end. One by one each officer was handed their badge, pride beaming on their faces. It was a proud moment for all as cameras flashed around them. The newly minted officers smiled as their top student, Roy ‘Mustang’ Hokori, wished them luck in their endeavours as they pledge together their commitment.

* * *

 

"Hey, Roy! Where’d you get assigned to?" Maes called, the light reflecting off his glasses as he stared at his pint.

"Central. Homicide division. What about you, my friend? Did investigations scoop you up?" Roy asked, flashing Maes a brilliant smile. Maes laughed heartily at his friend and took a swig of his beer.

"Yes. I start tomorrow in Central. We did it, Roy. Step one is complete! Now, it's time to start changing the world. We should celebrate.”

* * *

 

Roy gasped, feeling the hot white pleasure of Maes’ mouth wrapped around him. He bucked his hips forwards. This was what he needed; that case had been incredibly hard. They barely found the killer before a another girl had been killed. The killer had been chopping women to bits. They caught him though, right before… Roy closed his eyes, moaning lowly as Maes began to hum around his cock. His long time friend pulled back and stared up at him intently.

“You’re thinking too much, Roy. Relax, I got you,” Maes whispered, pushing him back towards the bed. Roy fell, letting go of his worries as Maes crawled over him, his face filled with intent and desire. He let it all fall away and gave himself over to Maes’ mercy.

* * *

 

“Detective Hokori, I believe we haven’t been formally introduced,” a voice boomed from behind Roy, startling him.

Roy turned and saluted Captain Bradley. He didn’t know what the Captain wanted with him. “Sir, what can I do for you?”

“At ease, Detective. I wanted to offer you a job,” Bradley laughed. “We have a specialized division and I believe you would be just the person for the job. I saw how well you handled the Chopper Case—it was exceptional. A man of your caliber is just what we need in the Syaitan.”

“Thank you, sir! I’ll do my best to serve our city,” Roy saluted, his eyes as wide as his smile.

“Of that, I have no doubt, Detective,” Bradley stated. “Report at 1600 hours to floor 13 to receive your new assignment.”

Roy watched the retreating form of his superior officer and let out a deep breath. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t wait to tell Maes his good fortune.

* * *

 

Roy frowned and listened. He watched the voluptuous superior officer explain in detail what would be expect of them.

This was a covert group. They wouldn’t exist. After today, he was a no-named soldier for his city. He would still be a Detective, but his assignments would be top secret.  

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Of course that would be the way of things. Maes could never know what his job would really be. But, he needed to this. They were going after the worst of the worse and he could change things from here.

He didn’t think twice as he signed his life away on the dotted line.

Maybe he shouldn't have?

* * *

 

It fucking hurt. The needle pressing into his skin, leaving him branded for the rest of his life. Today was Graduation Day.

Today, they would become the elite force they were meant to be.

After months of rigorous training, Roy no longer had any doubts of his path. They would be ending the terror that rained on Central City for far too long. He flashed a smile as his superior officer stopped in front him, waving the technician away.

“Well done, Pride. You’ve done well,” she purred, placing a bandage over the bleeding symbol. “Don’t worry the bleeding will stop eventually. Welcome to the Syaitan.”

Roy’s grin widen as he captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you, Lust. Up for some celebrating?” he purred, placing a deliberate kiss on her knuckles.

“Always the charmer. Another time, Hokori. We have an assignment. No Rest for the Weary.”

“For the Weary never rest. Rain check, then. What’s the assignment?” Roy asked, looking over the file she handed him. It was time to get to work.

* * *

 

“C’mon Pride, stop being such a pussy!”

“Shut the fuck up, Envy. I got the target in my fucking sights. Now, shut up,” Roy hissed, looking through the scope of his rifle. He calculated his trajectory quickly before pulling the trigger in quick succession. The screams below him made him feel hollow as his target fell to the ground surrounded by a pool of blood.

“Fucking Headshot! Damn, Pride. That's beautiful,” the man beside him cooed, the words falling on deaf ears.

* * *

 

Roy sagged against the door, staring at his hands. Just what had he done? They had said it was a gang peddling the worst kinds of drugs and sex trafficking of underaged little girls and boys. But...But...when he gone there...It was just women and children...scared. Nowhere to go. Their eyes...they weren't from here, but all them had been living in that tiny flat. They had said...

Roy wiped his eyes, ignoring the wetness staining his shirt. Numbly, he walked into his flat, grabbing a bottle of scotch and chugging it without pause. He had killed them all effortlessly and with precision.

Then, his fellow officer had laughed. God he hated that fucking laugh. He wanted to punch the man each time he heard it. And ordered him...ordered him to torch it. Shaking, Roy stared grimly at the wall and took another swig.

He had doused it...Those eyes…

Roy threw the bottle and heard the satisfying shatter as he slumped down to the floor. He covered his face with hand, the redness of their blood obscuring his vision. The patter of his tears against the floor echoed in the silent apartment.

He had killed them all with just a flick of his wrist...They were just...

* * *

 

He was barely aware of Maes hoisting him up; just the muscular build lending him his strength. He moaned, leaning into the embrace, wobbling his way to their destination…

He babbled his sorrow; his fingers digging into his tattoo...as his friend—his ex lover listen to his tale. He shouldn't never had...But, he would never remember.

The frantic push of lips against his was the only solid truth. The tearing of clothes whispered words of regret. He willed his heart to forget. He wanted to trust in the government but...his resolve was breaking...so many innocents he killed.

He moaned as he felt the familiar push against his body, forcing the evil thoughts away from him. He panted as frantic lips touched his neck nibbling, leaving their scorching mark. He dug his fingers into his lover's back, leaving blood welts as his lover's took him over and over relentlessly. He threw his head back as a hand grasped his hard erection, pumping him as his lover found the elusive spot, forcing him to arch off the bed. He felt his body leave the world around him as his lover's skillful tongue mapped his mouth, sucking his tongue, leaving no place to hide.

He listened to the whispers of love and reassurance swearing to help him. That he had a plan. That he was doing something that would change everything. Just to hold on just a bit longer so that their dreams could come true...

* * *

 

Roy stood stock still as he watched the casket being lowered into the ground. He wrapped an arm around his best friend's wife's sobbing shoulders as she held her rounded belly. Hughes had been so happy the day he met Gracia. He had wanted so much for her and...for him. He didn't know if Gracia knew what Hughes was to him…

But, he would do what Maes couldn't for her. He would find the bastard who callously murder his best friend. He listened to her wails, waiting for the rain to stop. Carefully, he grabbed a shovel and began to shovel the dirt onto the grave that held him. He would forever regret not answering his phone.

His last memory of his friend...forever immortalized in a voice message as he was cruelly murdered. He would return the favor...He would find....He would...accomplish what Maes could not.

* * *

 

 

Pausing, Roy felt the strong arms wrap around him, so much like the ones from long ago. He ignored the silent treks of tears cascading down his face as he silently sobbed his regret. Leaning forward, he shrugged the blond man off.

“Roy,” the whispered plea reached his ears as he covered his face.

Turning around to face the younger man, he scowled angrily. “There’s more, Edward. I’m very much the monster you believe I am.”

“Then tell me Roy. All of it….”

 

* * *

 

Roy hurried down the darkened street as the lights flickered around him; his footsteps echoed against the pavement as he ran faster. Breathing heavily, he skidded around his building corner nearly stumbling before he bent over and began to vomit. His vision swam as his body heaved up its meager contents. Clutching the nearby brick wall, Roy closed his eyes, willing the images to go away.

Women and children laid in pools of blood, shot three times after they cracked their jaws against the pavement; their eyes stared back at him accusingly. It had been another mission...much like the others: ruthlessly murdered for the greater good. Or at least, that’s what his commanding officer kept saying.

Standing up, Roy wiped his face with his sleeve and grimaced at his own disgusting display. He glanced around him cautiously before entering his building. He slowly began to climb the stairs as he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Shaking his head, Roy quickly turned to the left of the stairway and made his way to his flat. He quickly put his key into the door and slammed it behind him.  

Placing his shoes in the closet, he shuffled his way into his small kitchen. Grimacing, he carefully peeled off his now ruined shirt and threw it in the nearby trash can. He couldn’t believe that he had been weak like that. What would Maes think of him now?  Roy groaned, feeling the frustration of everything hit him full force. He quietly rinsed out the coffee pot and mechanically began to make coffee. Roy glanced at the table and bit his lip. It was filled with all the notes written by Maes that he could find. He was positive that Maes had stumbled onto to something—something dangerous. He just needed to find it.

Dazedly, he fixed his coffee and walked over to the table with a grim expression. Setting the cup down on the table, he pulled out a chair and sat down. Folding his hands under his chin, Roy glanced at the stack of papers that mocked him.

Roy gently picked up some of the nearby papers and began to shuffle them into order. He started to read the details of the reports when his phone blared to life. Ignoring it, Roy’s frown deepened as his childhood best friend's voice filled his apartment with her worry over him.  

He knew she was worried, but damnit he had promise to keep and he needed...he needed to…

Standing up, he strode over to his cabinet. He yanked the door open and grabbed the nearest bottle. Unscrewing the top, he took a long swig and wiped his mouth with his hand. Roy leaned over his mug and poured a hefty amount into it before sitting back down at the table.  

He needed to find what Maes was looking for.

* * *

 

Roy peered through the scope of his rifle. The wind was howling against his ears as he adjusted his sights. Settling into his makeshift nest, he pulled the bolt into place and waited for his target to appear. Wrath had only seen fit to give him the barest of information: Xingese, black hair, white robes, tattoo on lower right hand; would be leaving the suspected compound at 1800 hours; kill shot. Placing his finger on the trigger, he inhaled a sharp breath as his eyes widened in surprise as the ‘target’ came into view.

Wrath couldn’t be _serious_ , could he? That was his target?

Roy frowned and took a deep breath. Gazing into the scope of his tactical rifle, he watched his target laugh with his associates. Swallowing thickly, he curled his finger around the trigger as indecision warred within him.

If he did this, it would cause a war.  A bloody gruesome war, one that the city would never survive from. His target wasn’t just some lowlife scum. He was Ling Yao, head of the Yao Triad with rumoured ties with the yakuza.  If he takes this shot…

Roy leaned against the cold brick wall and shook his head in disbelief. Fiddling with his lighter, he felt ice cold rain begin to splash against him. Roy looked up and cursed as the sky began to rumble. He needed to make a decision and fast before the clouds opened up. His time was running out.

Grabbing his rifle, he quickly disassembled it and slung the pack over his shoulder. Unholstering his glock, he flicked the safety off and ran down the fire escape. Blending into the shadows, he quietly watched his target from across the street. A chill ran down his spine as Yao locked eyes with him, smiling viciously.

Just fuck! His time just ran out.

Roy quickly turned and ran down the alleyway. He needed to get out of here before Yao could sick his men on him. Keeping his glock clutched in his hand, he readjusted his pack and turned the corner. Cursing, he began to run faster as footsteps splashed behind him. Roy ignored the rain as it filled his vision and stepped on top of the nearby dumpster, vaulting over the brick wall. He braced himself as he crouched into a landing. Quickly standing back up, Roy sprinted into a run as bullets flew by him, narrowly missing his shoulder.

* * *

 

Roy took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Edward against his back. He didn’t know if it was just for this fleeting moment, but he wanted to savour it. He hadn’t told this tale to many—he had no evidence, no proof, nothing to support his claim.

“After that assignment, I started digging deeper. I discovered things. Dark things, _Edward._ Things that are worse than the boogeyman who goes bump in the night. I was never supposed to know about any of it. I was just supposed to be their killing machine.”

Roy paused and took a steady breath. Turning himself around, he stared at the man in front of him; a mirror image of what he used to be reflected back at him: full of righteousness, hope, and youth. He almost wished he could spare him from the truth, but they both knew he was in too deep to go back.

“Wrath wasn’t happy that I didn’t complete the mission and made my life hell for it. I had no clue as to why that particular mission was so vital and important. I didn’t know how deep I had become,” Roy whispered softly.

* * *

 

“Why him? You know that it’s suicide! If we kill him, the city will fall. He’s the only thing keeping it in check,” Roy shouted, anger laced into every word.

Roy straightened his backbone and locked his eyes with those of his commanding officer, never breaking contact as he waited for his answer. Wrath’s laughter only fueled his anger as he willed himself not to react.

“Finally getting a backbone, aren’t you, Pride? Sad to see it misplaced. It’s a shame that your name suits you so well. It almost hurts to tell you how much your _pride_ is blinding you.” His commanding officer stepped closer to him and loomed over him. Roy bit his tongue as he was yanked forwards by his shirt and raised slightly off his feet. “So, let me make myself clear to you. You shoot where I tell you, that’s it. So simple. No questions, you just do it. That’s what you are Mustang, my killing machine. I will keep the order in _my_ city the way I see fit. Those who stand in my way will be removed. Now get out and don’t come back until you’ve done your job.”

* * *

 

Roy glared at his computer as reports filled the screen. Roy skimmed through their contents. Releasing a heavy sigh, he shook his head in confusion.

He had join the Syaitan in hopes of making a difference. What a laugh that was. Roy felt a bitter laugh bubble up from him as he clicked through the reports. Staring unblinking at the screen in front of him, he battled against the anguish that was swelling in his heart. He needed to focus. He was certain that these missions, Syaitan, Maes’... it was all connected, somehow.

Rubbing his neck, Roy took a swig from the tequila bottle in front of him. He closed his eyes as he savoured the burn, letting the alcohol numb him. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking at the picture of Maes that sat proudly on his desk. He took another swig and hung his head in his hands as tears splashed against the wood.

 _Damnit._ What was the connection?! What did you find out, Maes? _What got you_ _killed_?

* * *

 

Roy scowled at the man in front him. He cocked back the hammer to his gun and tapped his finger against the trigger in silently warning. Roy narrowed his eyes as Yao beamed at him with a cocky smile and held his hands up in surrender.

“Now... Now, _Pride_. You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, now would you?” Yao stated dismissively, letting his hands drop to his sides as he leaned against a nearby metal pole. “I just wanted to talk. I know you have questions. So many burning unanswered questions. And who better to answer them than the man you were assigned to kill?”

Roy frowned. The two of them were standing on top of Yao’s newest headquarters. He didn’t even know why he had come. He had received the message just a few hours before. Yao had set the bait and he had taken it. Ignoring the wind biting at his ears, he took a step closer to the dangerous man in front of him.

“Alright, Yao. Speak before I kill you,” Roy warned. He tightened his fingers around the grip of his gun and aimed it for Yao’s forehead.

“Greed. _Not Yao_ . Greed, Pride. It's nice to finally met you,” Yao—no, Greed purred. “Though, in hindsight, I don’t exist anymore, not in any database that is.  I was once where you stand: so deep undercover that you start to wonder which side you’re truly on. Which choice was the right one and will it leave you burning in hell?”  Yao paused and looked down at his nails before locking his eyes with him. “However, it was easier for me, I’m sure,than you. I was born into the criminal underground and groomed to be the crowned prince of it all at a _very_ tender age.”

“What are you saying, Greed?”

“Wrath sent you to kill me because we’re a liability to his plans, you stupid little piss ant. He was hoping we would kill each other off without him having to deal with the mess,” Greed growled.

Roy stumbled as Greed swiftly moved behind him and placed him in a chokehold, his arm pressing tightly against his adam apple. Struggling for a breath, Roy twisted himself as he tried to break the hold. Greed’s laughter filled his ears as his vision began to dim.

Feeling the pressure lessen, Roy took a deep breath and tried to regain his bearings. He started to step away when Greed wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him backwards until they were flushed against each other. He shuddered as Greed’s warm breath curled against his ears.  

“There’s no record of me. But, I’ve killed hundreds, maybe more, for him and his city. I gave drugs to those he wanted and cut those who crossed him.  Everything is ruled by him, until recently.”

Roy cursed as his body trembled in rage from Greed’s declarations. This couldn’t be true, could it? Is this what Maes had found? What had he _done?_

“Pride, don’t be blinded by your ignorance. We live in a dark world, it's not—”

A ring of gunshots peppered the ground around them, cutting their conversation short. Cursing, Roy ducked and rolled towards a nearby A/C unit. Roy crouched against the metal unit and looked around for Greed; he was gone. Looking towards the sound of the shots, Roy cocked his gun and peered over the unit. On the nearby rooftop stood Wrath his iron gaze trained on him. Lightning flashed against the night sky as it rumbled its threat of rain, making Wrath seem more dangerous than Roy ever realized. He felt fear curl in his gut as his commanding officer cocked his gun and aimed it at him with a smile on his face. Roy took a deep breath and bolted to the edge of the roof.

Greed was right. And now, he was so damn screwed.

Roy jumped off the rooftop and swung to the nearby fire escape as the sky darkened and began to rain. Climbing down the fire escape, he leapt towards the ground and rolled against the ground. Standing up, more shots pierced the ground around him, barely missing him. Swearing harshly, he picked himself up and ran out to the road, feeling his clothes stick to him as the rain drenched him. He ducked as more bullets flew above his head. Skidding against the pavement, he turned the corner and aimed his gun straight at Envy’s smirking face.

“Well...well...well Pride, you just couldn’t let things go, could you? Just had to go looking. Such a pity. Wrath, I found the rat,” Envy said gleefully, ignoring the gun pointed at his face.

Roy felt the looming presence behind him before large muscular arms darted out to grabbed him. He twisted to his left and pulled the trigger in quick succession. The howl from Envy let him know that he, at least, hit one of his marks.

Breathing harshly, Roy quickly assessed his situation to find a way out. Looking down the alley, he rushed towards the chain link fence in the distance. He ignored the sudden fiery pain in his shoulder as a bullet lodge itself into his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up the fence, trying to get a foothold in the links as the icy cold rain pelted against him.

“Dammit,” he shouted as he lost his footing. Swinging himself back, he found purchase in the link and began to climb faster. He could hear footsteps in the distance. He howled in pain as meaty hands grabbed his ankle and yanked him down harshly, throwing him into the nearby dumpsters.

Dazedly, he moaned as light seared through his clouded vision. He sluggishly tried to stand, swaying with each movement. Clutching his head, Roy groaned. It felt like a million jackhammers were having a concert in his head.

Shaking his head, Roy struggled to get his bearings as footsteps slowly approached him. Touching the back of his head, Roy swore as warm liquid pooled in between his fingers. Feeling his vision start to clear, he staggered using the nearby brick wall to hold himself up. He swallowed thickly as Wrath’s voice washed over him.

“You just couldn’t be a good little soldier, Pride? Just had to questions and poke around where you didn’t belong...good help is so hard to find these days,” Wrath sighed, playing with the hilt of an ornate dagger.

Straightening himself up, Roy ignored the searing pain in his body and glared at his commanding officer. “Fuck you, Wrath!  I’ll never be your damn pawn, never again, you sick bastard! How could you do it? All those people.”

Roy fumbled at his back and grabbed his jackknife. Clutching the hilt tightly, he arched his arm and howled as Envy snapped his wrist from behind him with a ‘tsk’. The knife clattered to the floor, echoing loudly in the alley. Quickly, he scrambled to grab it, but Envy kicked him swiftly in his knees and forced him to fall to the ground. Heaving from the pain, he bit his lip as Envy yanked his hair backwards, forcing him to look at his commanding officer.

“Such a sad waste. And to think of all the promise you had,” Wrath taunted, leaning over him.

The hot press of metal trailed against his neck, drawing thin lines of blood in their wake. Clenching his teeth, Roy steeled himself against the pain.

“Go. To. Hell,” he spat, feeling satisfaction as his spit rolled down Wrath’s face before screaming as metal pierced his hand. Breathing heavily, he forced the bile down his throat as Envy carved into his hand, giggling. Biting hard on his lip, Roy refused to make any more noise as his blood began to paint the pavement.

He would rather die than give them the pleasure.

“So defiant, even on Death’s door,” Wrath acknowledged before he started to carve at the red glowing tattoo on Roy’s neck, the searing pain making him tremble. Forcing himself to think through the pain, he struggled to throw them off of him. Using his free hand, he punched his former partner, sending him backwards onto the pavement.

Grasping the dagger embedded into his hand, he yanked it out and tried to stab his commanding officer. Wrath’s laughter made him feel hollow as he batted away the dagger and punched him in the jaw. Blood dribbled from his lips as Wrath pulled his hair roughly. Glaring darkly, Roy opened his mouth, but only inhuman screams left it as another knife pierced his stomach, ripping his flesh in two.  Their laughter echoing in his ears as unconsciousness claimed him.

 

* * *

 

 

Roy closed his eyes as shudders wracked his body. He could still feel the lingering phantom touches of their blades. It was something he would never forget. And he would make them pay for everything. He just needed to place all his pieces into action. But, his wild card was staring at him with wild disbelieving eyes.

Roy cleared his throat and continued, “After that, Yao came back. He found me laying in a pool of my own blood, barely alive. He saved my life. But, it wasn’t from the goodness of his heart. He needed me. Edward, this isn’t a simple game. Everything I’ve done has been for one purpose: to end this.”

Roy watched Edward swallow and waited. The silence seem to stretch between them, increasing Roy’s nervousness. _What if he had miscalculated?_ It could cost him dearly. Roy shifted uneasily as Edward stood up and headed to the door.

“I...I need time to think, Roy,” Edward whispered, taking his coat from the closet. “Just give me time.”  

“Ed...Edward...Do you think that—”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. This is alot and it could be another one of your manipulations. Fuck,” Edward sighed, running his hand through his hair. This was just so much to process. If this was true, damn. This really had become a shithole. Turning halfway, he locked eyes with Mustang’s with a grim expression.

“This has never been about us. In reality, we never existed. We both know that. You played me just as much as I played you, Mustang. There is no us, never has been. I need to think, Mustang.”

Roy nodded and watched helplessly as Edward walked out the door. He closed his eyes; the sound of the door as it clicked closed piercing through his heart like nails into a coffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr.](http://stargazerlilith.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating in awhile. Life got in the way. But to make up for that, here is a really long chapter. Thank you for everyone who has stuck with me on this journey so far. Only two chapters left to go... It's been surreal. I will update as soon as I can. I appreciate every kudo, comment, bookmark, and rec! 
> 
> On that note, please give a big shout out to [hellowsweetie17. ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17) She is very awesome for putting up with me and for beta'ing my work. I'm pretty sure one day she will throw something at me. But, she's the reason this fic even happened. She encouraged me to go for it. 
> 
> Enjoy~!

* * *

 

There was no light, no sound, just deafening silence. Roy glanced around the room trying to figure out how he ended up here. He knew this room, had seen it a dozen times. He never wanted to be in this room. This room was reserved for special treatments. Treatments only Wrath himself with a selected few carried out.  

He could feel the hairs on back of his neck standing on end while goosebumps broke out across his flesh.

Something wasn’t right. How the fuck did he end up here?

He nearly jumped as the echo of footsteps vibrated against the cement floor before suddenly stopping.

The jangle of chains and the clattering of metal mixed with the flowing stench of blood was all he could hear and smell. Roy blinked rapidly as a blinding light flickered on, illuminating the room. Roy felt his stomach roll as he locked his dark eyes with Envy’s—he was holding his tesoro, slicing his neck open.

“Pride,” the voice called, sickenly sweet. “It’s almost time. You can’t hide foreeever. Lookie what we found. He was so delicious.”

Roy stared dumbfounded at his tesoro's lifeless body, anger building up in him. He reached down and grabbed his knife in his boot. He rushed forwards, ready to strike, when Edward’s lifelessly body started to move.

Roy stared horrified when empty golden eyes stared back at him with a whisper plea of _“Why did you kill me, Roy?”_ echoed around the room followed by the crackle of gleeful laughter.

 

* * *

 

Roy sat up with a start and clutched at his head, tears sliding down his face. Carding his fingers through his sweat slicked hair, he screwed his eyes shut with a groan.

_Fuck. It had seemed so real._

He took shallow breaths, willing his stomach to stop rolling. Quickly, he grabbed the bin next to the bed and emptied out his stomach contents.

Just the mere idea... _fuck._

Fumbling, he grabbed a cloth on the nightstand and wiped his mouth.  His stomach continued to roll with each breath. Taking deep breaths, Roy willed the sickness to go away.

Images of Edward’s lifeless body flashed before his eyes, bleeding and mouthing ‘Why’.  He felt his stomach rebelling and barely made it back to the small basket before throwing up anything left in his body.

 

* * *

 

Edward stared at the window watching the snow fall. Today was the first snowfall of the season. Leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, Edward sighed heavily.

His loft was a mess. Reports were scattered everywhere: on the floor, the walls, across the table...Really, no place was left unmarked by reports of murders, ‘suicides’, missing persons, drug raids, and so on.

Blowing softly, he took a tentative sip of his coffee, hoping to wash away his weariness. He had been up for the last forty-eight hours piecing everything together. What he had found so far chilled him to the bone.

He had studied over a hundred cases spread across the last thirty years. Every single one of them had the same MO as the last. The MO that they had been led to believe was Mustang’s and his associates.

How could that be?  

Everytime he got closer, more questions popped up.

The drugs found at the scenes weren’t even close to the candy shit Mustang was peddling. No, Mustang’s drugs were different. Mustang’s tale seemed far fetched.

Right out of a lame ass movie.

Chuckling dryly, Edward hopped off the window sill, taking his empty mug with him. Setting it in the sink, Edward eyed the blue journal that had been mocking him. Running a hand through his hair, he ignored it and headed towards his living room.

Sitting down on the floor, Edward sifted through the files until he came up with Brosch’s file. He reread it again, pressing his lips into a thin line.

_Denny Brosch joined the police academy; did well; was promoted to officer within the normal time frame._

He was a straight lace kid until, suddenly, he was let go after joining the homicide division and being assigned to case #6675.

Swearing, Edward jumped up and  started to pace back and forth. Darting over to a box, he pulled out a manilla folder and rifled through the images that greeted. Same fucking MO: dumped, bags of drugs, burns…

Dammit, it was right there screaming at him; he just needed the finally piece— _the key_.  Maes, Mustang, Brosch, the murders, all of it was connected. He knew it. He just needed to find that missing link to prove it.

 _If_ what Roy said was true, the members of the Syaitan were responsible for most of this. _But, why?_ What was driving them to murder all of these people?

Pausing, Edward looked back to his kitchen table where Maes’ journal sat. He’d bet his badge that Maes had figured it out. That's why it was coded and more than likely had caused his death.

Walking into the kitchen, Edward picked up the journal, trying to ignore the knot growing in his stomach. Grabbing a nearby notebook and pen, he carried them over to his couch, settling down to open it. Feeling his unease growing, he opened the notebook and set down to work.

This could change _everything_.

 

* * *

 

Roy groaned as light filtered through his closed eyelids and the banging of cabinets reached his ears. Each shut of the wood felt like a hammer in his skull. Burrowing himself into his arms upon his desk, he ignored whoever the hell had decided to come into the pit.

“Go away,” he croaked, his voice scratchy and distinctively raw.  

The cock of a gun was his only warning before he was smacked against the head with butt of a gun. He cried out as pain shot down his spine. Opening his eyes, he looked around bewildered before settling his gaze on Riza. Confused, he turned his head to the side only to be greeted with a wave of nausea.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes as agony shot through his body. Fighting the wave of nausea down, he wasn’t prepared for the yank to hair as he was roughly pulled back. Opening his eyes, he stared at hard fathomless brown and started to tremble.

“Hello, _Roy_ ,” the brown-eyed man drawled, his whiskey voice chilling him to the bones.  

He swallowed thickly as the color drained from his face. “Dazai-sama…”

“Let’s have a chat, shall we, _Roy-ku n_?” Dazai cooed sweetly before slamming his head on the desk and yanking him down to the floor, dragging him by his hair.

 

* * *

 

Edward stood still, not daring to move an inch. He was standing in the lion's den. The clicking of six-inch heels against tiled floor echoed against the walls with each step of his superior officer as she circled around him.

He had been close to figuring out the coded journal when he had been interrupted with a call to report. It was all too convenient if you asked him. But, he wasn’t going to let them know that he was getting close. He continued to stare impassively at her cold mauve gaze and waited. _He could play this game._

“Detective, progress report,” Captain Himo commanded, stopping in front of her desk. She leaned against the wood of her desk and tapped her nails against the wooden surface of her desk impatiently.

“I’ve gained access to the inner circle. He trusts me. It’s only a matter of time before he slips,” Edward replied evenly, meeting her gaze.

“Good, Elric. I knew I could expect swift results from you,” Himo praised, walking towards him and placing a hand against his arm.

Edward arched an eyebrow at his superior officer, not breaking his stance. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“The city appreciates _your service_ , Elric,” she purred into his ear, letting her hand trail down suggestively before walking away.  

Edward watched her settle back into her chair, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his temper in check. He waited for what felt like an eternity (which was probably fifteen minutes) before she paused in her typing and glanced his way.

“You’re dismissed, Detective.”

Edward nodded with a salute before turning and heading to the door. He placed his hand on the metal knob and began to turn, when her sultry voice reached his ears.

“Oh and Detective, I expect this case to be closed by the end of next week. Don’t disappoint me.”

Edward swallowed and gave a small nod before opening the door and walking out. Keeping his face impassive, he marched passed Kateus’ nearly knocking him over in his rush to leave. He ignored the calls of his name and flew into the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed, he ran his fingers through his hair and gave a sigh.

 _Just fuck._ He was going to have to see Mustang. _Fuckin’ hell._

 

* * *

 

Mustang groaned. His entire body ached and trembled from exertion. Wearily, he opened his swollen eyes and tried to focus on the man he owed everything to.

Dazai was pacing in front of him. To outsiders, he looked calm and collected. But, Roy knew better. He could see the reflecting madness within amber eye.

It was a singular madness, one reserved for those who fucked up Dazai’s plans or worse, became an object of affection for Chuuya.

And Roy was _both_.

He was _royally_ _fucked_.

Pulling his arms forwards, he bit his lip as the jingling of chains reached his ears. Roy struggled to focus, turning his head to the side to peer at the shackles against his wrist. _Merda!_

Roy froze when he felt the singular oppressive gaze of one Osamu Dazai, Boss of the Port Mafia.

Mustang swallowed thickly, licking his spilt lips and tasting the dried blood across his lips. “Dazai-sama…”

“Oh, good, Roy-kun. You’re finally awake. I was beginning to wonder if I had maybe cracked your skull just a _tad_ bit too much,” Dazai sing-songed at him, twirling Chuuya’s dagger within his hand.

“Had I known…”

“Known what, _Roy_ ? You should really be more specific, _Mr. King_ ,” Dazai taunted, dragging the jagged blade across his face.

Roy gulped, trying not to shake as the blade dug into his jugular. He was not afraid of death, but Dazai was terrifying.

God, he had screwed up.

Taking a steadying breath, he tried again. “Dazai-sama..”

“Poor King of the Underworld. Fucking up his own revenge, all because he wanted some _golden dick_ ~!”

“Dazai-sama, I—”

“Shhh, Roy-kun. I know all about your little pet detective. I wonder how he tasted? Hmm, must’ve been something for you to forget all about your plans. Did you forget about your other lover, Hughes? Isn’t he apart of the reason you wanted this?” Dazai questioned, pressing the blade against his lips.

Mustang open his mouth to speak, but promptly closed his mouth at Dazai’s sharp gaze.

“How did he taste, Roy-kun? Must’ve not been enough. No, you decided to have a taste of something that will never be yours.”

“Dazai-sama, I...I can’t defy Chuuya-sensei,” Roy stammered out, closing his eyes at the sharp nick against his throat.

Swallowing, he felt the hot press of metal against his adam’s apple. Roy watched helplessly while Dazai smirked at him before trailing the blade up his face and slicing through his cheek. Refusing to cry out in pain, he locked his gaze with Dazai’s and bowed his head in surrender.

“I apologize, Boss, for my transgression. It won’t happen again.”

Roy coughed up blood at the sudden punch to his gut, forcing his body to double over in pain. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He whimpered at the rough pull to his already sore scalp.

“Look at me, Mustang. You shouldn’t aim for something you can never reach. Keep your Detective, if you wish. Make sure that everything falls into place,” Dazai said dark and low, his voice full of dark promises and warnings if Mustang failed.

Mustang nodded, watching Dazai warily. He cried out through clenched teeth as his head made contact with the concentrate wall behind him. Blinking rapidly, he willed his vision to clear, trying to ignore the ache forming at the base of his skull.

He could feel the slippery slide of blood oozing from the back of his head. Finally feeling his vision clear, Mustang squinted at the silhouette of the man who owned him.

“Oh, and Roy-kun. This is your last chance. You would do well to remember what we do to traitors in the Port Mafia~” Dazai said sickly sweet before skipping up the stairway.

“Dazai-sama?”

Silence greeted Mustang and he groaned in frustration.

_Fucking Dazai._

The man was terrifying and brilliant. And he owed him everything. Mustang looked up sharply at the creak of hinges of a door where Dazai was poking his head in.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Chuuya will come looking for his mon loup…eventually,” Dazai taunted before slamming the door with enough force to shake the frame.

Mustang closed his eyes and shoved his nausea down. He had been through worse. This was lenient for Dazai, which meant that Dazai had pissed off Chuuya.

_Thank fuck for that._

He would never understand his superiors’ relationship.

But, he had been through worse during the early days of his time with mafia. This was a cakewalk. Letting his breath even out, Mustang let sleep claim him. Someone would collect him, eventually.

 

* * *

 

Roy sighed as he looked at his disheveled state in the mirror. He was thankful that Chuuya had sent Hawkeye to get him. Rubbing his shoulder, he winced at the ache within it. Being suspended always left him worse for wear.

Sighing heavily, he cupped the running water, splashing it in his face. Grabbing a nearby medical kit, he threaded the needle carefully. Pinching the skin together, he swore as the shaking in his hands caused him to drop it.

 _Che cazzo_.

Bracing his arms against the sink, he screamed his frustration. He was better than this. He was above this. He owed Dazai-sama for everything, but this was his end game and he nearly—

"Mustang."

Roy looked at the doorway and glared. " _Vai a cagare ,_  Yao. I'm not in the fucking mood for your games."

"No game today, Roy. Let me help," Ling said, holding his hands up in peace as he walked towards the bathroom.

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" Ling retorted, grabbing the nearby needle. "Hold still."

Ling grabbed his chin, titling it upwards. Mustang gritted his teeth as the needle pierced his skin. Ling ignored him, stitching the skin together with practiced ease.

"Looks like Dazai did a number. Could've been worse."

Roy pursed his lips together as Ling tied off the string and cut the rest off. He turned to look at himself in the mirror and frowned.

"Roy—"

"Don't Ling. I can't do this right now."

Yao nodded and grabbed the nearby bandages. "You're gonna look like him if you keep this up," Yao joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mustang fought the smile that threatened his face. "Just grow out your hair and bam: Dazai 2.0."

"Merde! Don't you two ever suggest such a fucking thing. Damn bastard is enough on his own. Fucking hell, mon loup, he did a number on you," Chuuya barked, walking across the room into the small bathroom. Ling gave a nod to Chuuya before running out the door.

Shaking his head, Mustang sighed, "Chuuya-sensei, I—"

"Leave it alone, Roy-kun"

"But, sensei..."

"You don't see me butting into the mess of your love life, Roy-kun, do you? Your fiery little hellion is here. You need to fix it, Roy-kun. Get the board back into play. There is more riding on this than your dick. Or have you forgotten?" Chuuya snapped, yanking Roy by the collar until he was eye level with his mentor.

"No, of course not, Chuuya-sensei. It's just—"

"I don't give a fuck, Roy-kun. Clean this mess up and get back on track. Too much is riding on it. And you do know what the Port Mafia does to those who oppose us."

"Yes, Chuuya-sensei."

"Good, let's go before Dazai does something stupid," Chuuya said before sauntering out the door.

* * *

He watched the sickening display of affection happening before him. It was gross how happy and unaware of the danger around them. The tall blonde was leaning down, speaking in soft tones to the shorter one. His eyes just shone with whatever sickening emotion that was being expressed. He gagged as they kissed.

 _So, fucking clueless._ Let them have their moment. _Their time... Soon_.

Soon...she had promised.

He wanted to play with them so badly and Father had promised new toys. He always did like new toys. And the tall one looked like he would be so much fun. He would bet his allowance that his screams were beautiful.

 _So, damn beautiful._ He would have fun breaking this one.

 

* * *

 

Edward fidgeted nervously as he walked by the bouncer with a small nod.  

It seemed his invitation was still open.

Running his hand through his hair, Edward let out a heavy sigh and walked towards the bar.

He needed a drink. He needed something...anything to get through this.

Signaling to the bartender, he nodded his thanks and sipped at the whiskey. Looking upwards, he swigged the rest down and set the glass back down with thud, the ice clinking against the glass.

Straightening himself, he walked towards the staircase of the VIP Section. Nodding to the guards nearby, he slowly climbed the steps, dread filling him with each step. He smiled shakily at Heysman, who smiled broadly at him.

"Hey, Little Bit, I'll let the boss know you're here. Uh, let me get Riza," Heysman stuttered, signalling to the Mustang’s right-hand woman. Edward raised an eyebrow, noting the tension filling the room.  

It was tense, very tense. _Just what the fuck was going on._ Not even...when...when...that man was here was it like this.

Shuffling his way into the VIP section, Edward stopped and stared at the man sitting on Roy-no...Mustang's throne like he owned it.

The man sat lazily against the leather with a gaggle of women hanging off of him in every direction. He was conversing softly with them as they giggled and simpered at him. Edward let his gaze travel over man, who seem to be making everyone nervous.

He was good-looking, fuck who was he kidding?

He was dropped dead gorgeous. Everything about him was familiar in some way: the way he carried himself as he smoothed talked those women; his brunet locks falling into his eye almost playfully.

Edward could make out some type of white flashing here and there on the man’s body. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he stared unabashedly as the man shifted slightly, causally undoing his golden tie around his neck before turning to face him.

This man, whoever the hell he was, screamed power and oozed sex. _Fuck_ — he could give Roy a run for his money. Swallowing to ease the sudden dryness in his throat, Edward didn't notice the tightening grip of Riza on his arm.  

"Ah, what do you have there, Hawkey? Is that Mustang's newest pet?" the man cooed.

"Who the hell are you calling a pet?"

"Oh? But you look like one? I can see why he likes you, so fiery and _petite_."

"I'm not—"

"Ed," Hawkeye looked at him sharply, stopping his tirade.

He was missing something, _again._ What else was fuckin’ new?

"Hawkeye, bring him closer. Let me see his newest toy."

"Yes, Dazai-sama."

"Bastard—"

"Edward, not now."

Edward nodded meekly at the tone in her voice and walked towards the man.

He watched warily as the man stood up and circled around him in an appraising manner.

He was tall, very tall. Motherfucking land of the giants is what he was in. What the hell was going on? Who the fuck was this tall drop dead gorgeous bastard anyway?

He looked up startled at the touch of cold long fingers against his chin, tilting it up. His eyes widened as an amber eye with a hint of scarlet peered back at him. Edward felt his breath leave him. This man was stunning, even more so upclose...dangerously so. Edward licked his lips as he couldn’t help but give the man a once over with his eyes as those sinful fingers left his face. This Dazai made a simple suit of charcoal and grey look like it belong on a fashion runway. The damn blazer hung off his shoulders that should’ve screamed pretentious but fuck it was hot on him. He had seen it somewhere before, but at the moment Ed couldn’t quite remember where.

His breath hitched as Dazai grabbed his waist and tugged him closer. He felt the calculating gaze and licked his lips unconsciously. Holding his breath, he tensed as one finger stroke his cheek, gingerly.

"Yes, I see why now," Dazai whispered, pulling Edward with him towards the leather couch.

Edward followed helplessly;  he knew he was in over his head.

This ‘Dazai’ screamed power—he owned, which made him more dangerous than Mustang could ever be.

Edward released an ‘oomph’, landing in the brunet’s lap. Scowling, Edward glared up at him before staring confusedly at the bandages in his vision. Mesmerized, he cautiously touched the bandages against Dazai’s neck in curiosity. Swiftly, Dazai grabbed his hand with a sinful smile, holding his fingers up to his lips and kissing each tip of his fingers. “Curiosity killed the cat, watashi no tenshi,” Dazai drawled, pulling Edward closer to him.

Edward struggled against Dazai’s hold, only to have long fingers dig into his side.

“Let me go, bastard. I’m not your fucking angel. I don’t give a fuck who you think you are,” he growled, his anger building at the other man as he laughed heartily.

Edward closed his eyes and counted to ten, ignoring how the laughter ghosted across his ears, sending sparks of pleasure through his body.   

He cut a glance at Hawkeye, whose lips were pressed thin, and Mustang's two left-hand men, who stared at him helplessly. Edward looked up into the face of the man holding him captive and sighed heavily.

“You’re the contacts. The associates,” he whispered, dread coiling in his gut. That meant this man worked with him.

“Ah, aren’t you a smart one, goldie,” Dazai quipped, trailing his fingers along Edward’s side teasingly.

Swallowing his pride, Edward pushed his anger down at being manhandled, ignoring the tingling sensation at the prick’s ministrations. He  took a nearby drink from a table and gulped it down, letting the scotch burn his throat. Setting the glass back down, he placed a hand around the stranger's neck.

"Dazai-sama, why are you so interested in me?

"Ah, watashi no kin no tenshi. I just wanted to see what had capture Roy-kun's interest so much," Dazai purred, trailing his fingers along Edward's jaw and placing a golden lock behind his ear.

"And?"

"I think I might just need to have a taste..." Dazai murmured against his lips.

Ed didn’t have a moment to process what Dazai meant when soft lips descended upon his own. Wide-eyed, Edward fisted his hands into Dazai’s shirt in an attempted to push Dazai off of him, but a bite to his lips caused him to gasp in shock.

Using that to his advantage, Dazai thrusted his tongue into Edward’s mouth, devouring him, searching every crevice before intertwining his tongue with the smaller man’s.

Edward moaned as the gorgeous bastard sucked on his tongue. Loosening his grip, Edward began to return the kiss, taking his time to explore the sinful man’s mouth.

He felt strong hands lift him up without breaking the kiss and settle him to where he was straddling Dazai. Whimpering, Edward broke the kiss and rested his head against Dazai’s shoulder, breathing heavily.

_Just fuck._

“Like sweet sake. Edward, you taste _divine_ ,” Dazai purred into his ear, causing shivers to race down his spine.

 _Damnit._ He shouldn’t be turned on by this.

He heard a snap of fingers next to his ears and peeked his eyes open. The gaggle of women shot him dirty looks before scampering off.

Well that was... _Fuuuuck_.

Shivering, Edward closed his eyes as long fingers guided his face back to Dazai’s, sweeping back and forth.

“Maybe...Mustang was right to call you takaramono,” Dazai admitted against his lips before claiming them once more.

Edward moaned, putting his hands against Dazai’s shoulders to anchor himself. He lost himself to the sensations as the suave bastard devoured him. He arched his back, breaking the kiss as Dazai thrusted upwards, sending shocks of pleasure down his spine.

“Dazai...I can’t,” Edward whined while Dazai kissed and suckled against his throat, nipping along the way.

“Why not, tenshi? Are you with him? Even after he betrayed you,” Dazai breathed against his skin, licking his way to Edward’s ear. “Let me show you pleasure, chibi.”

“Dazai—” Edward gasped, grinding himself against the hard bulge rubbing against him.

“That’s more like it, my sweet Edward.”

Dazai gave him a sinful smile and captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, prying his lips open with his tongue skillfully.

Edward let go, entwining his tongue with Dazai’s in a battle of conquest. He shivered in anticipation as long fingers quickly unworked the buttons to his shirt, exposing him to Dazai’s perusal. His breath hitched; Dazai was looking at him like a wolf ready to devour his prey.

It shouldn’t be hot. _Fuck_ , but it was. So, _damn hot_.

Dazai trailed kisses down his shoulder, long fingers memorized by where automail met flesh before ghosting over his tattoo over his heart.

“You’ll have to tell me about this one day, tenshi.”

Edward closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensations Dazai was wrecking upon his body. He thrusted his hips forwards while a hot tongue swirled around his nipple.

“Fuck,” he moaned, before nudging Dazai’s face up and devouring his lips in a soul-searing kiss. Rocking his hips forwards, he whimpered as long fingers slipped below his waistband, digging into the flesh of his ass and pulling him closer.

“We are about to have an audience, my sweet,” Dazai breathed into his ear, his tone dark with lust and amusement. “Shall we give them a show?”

Edward groaned, the idea more thrilling than it should be.

It would serve the bastard right. A taste of his own medicine. It wasn’t cheating, they never were together. And damn, Dazai was hot and he wanted him—even though he was broken. Fuck’em. He didn’t care who saw.

Grinning wickedly, Edward trailed kisses down Dazai’s neck where flesh was exposed from bandages, paying close attention to the sharp inhales of breath as Dazai’s dark gaze followed him. Locking gazes with him, he slowly undid the buttons of Dazai’s shirt, nipping lightly over small patches of flesh where bandages didn’t cover. Seeing a hint of ink, Edward traced it with his tongue before lowering himself to the ground.

Nuzzling his nose against the clothed bulge, Edward licked his lips and locked gazes with his new conspirator. He listened intently as footsteps reached his ears, and sucked the clothed tip of Dazai’s erection into his mouth, earning him a sinful moan that sent shivers down his spine. He nodded encouragingly as Dazai’s sinful fingers threaded into his hair while he swirled his tongue against the clothed erection, soaking the expensive cloth with his saliva.

Reaching upwards, Edward made quick work of Dazai’s belt, ignoring their audience. Slowly, he unzipped Dazai’s pants and smirked at Dazai’s audacity.

“Well, someone was _cocky_ tonight,” he drawled, blowing against Dazai’s exposed length teasingly.

“One must always be prepared, _chibi_ ,” Dazai purred, nudging him closer to his leaking erection.  

Edward hummed his responses, taking the hot length into his mouth. Breathing through his nose, he sucked wetly and twirled his tongue along the underside of Dazai’s cock. Inching his way downwards, he groaned against the pulsing length in his mouth.

Dazai tasted divine. Damn, this was so wrong, but fuck.

Deciding to play the devil’s advocated, Edward began to hum, gripped the base before pulling the hot length from his mouth. Locking eyes with Dazai, he licked from base to tip, before swallowing his hot length all the way down. Hallowing his cheeks, he sucked, starting up a rhythm.

He moaned as fingers dug into his hair and hips began bucking up into his mouth. Dazai’s moans spurring him on, he swallowed against Dazai’s length, earning him an breathy ‘ _fuck_ ’.

Edward winced as he was thrown off the hot length and pinned roughly against the floor. He moaned; Dazai was hovering over him, his hands pinning Edward’s arms over his head. Dazai leaned down and kissed him ruthlessly, all teeth and tongue, swallowing Edward’s cries of pleasure.

Before Edward could blink, his leather pants were yanked off and warm long fingers gripped his length.

“Damn, Dazai,” he breathed, losing himself to the sensations as Dazai pumped him up and down.

“So, damn beautiful. Just look at you, tenshi. Spread out below me like the an offering for the goddess Amateras. I want to take you apart inch by inch before slowly putting you back together, Ed-ward. Let them see how I wreck you,” Dazai breathed against his ear, letting go of Edward’s leaking erection.

Edward whined from the loss, Dazai’s words sending tendrils of pleasure down his spine. He arched his back as Dazai gathered him up, sucking wetly on his neck as he carried him back to the leather couch. Dazai grinned wickedly and settled Edward on top of his length, grinding against his cleft.

“I’m going to fuck you, Edward, in front of everyone,” Dazai murmured against his lips, reaching towards the table and grabbing a bottle.

Edward whimpered when warm slick fingers began tracing against his entrance. Leaning forwards, Edward panted while Dazai teased him. Dazai gripped his jaw in a strong grip, forcing Edward to stare straight into Dazai’s fathomless eye that burned scarlet. Edward’s breath caught from the desire swirling in Dazai’s one uncovered eye. He clung to Dazai’s shirt, arching backwards as one long finger entered him.

“Fuuck,” he breathed, before soft lips claimed his own.

Dazai took his time, exploring his mouth while pumping his finger in and out, stretching him. Biting Edward’s lip, Dazai inserted another finger, scissoring them.

“Damnit...fuckin’ hell, Dazai,” Edward grounded out, panting heavily against Dazai’s neck.

Another hand snaked its way to Edward’s leaking erection, swipping the pre-cum from the tip and stroking downwards. Locking gazes with Dazai, Edward moaned low and deep as Dazai licked Edward’s cum from his fingers.

Edward swore. He felt like crying. This man was sin and fuck he knew it. Edward understood now. This is where…fuckin’ hell.

Edward let loose a long breath as another finger joined the other two, stretching him fully.

He needed more. This was torture.

“Dazai, please,” he whined, rocking his hips, seeking more fiction.

Dazai tutted at him and removed his fingers with a wet plop. Grinning wickedly, he turned Edward around to position over his length, forcing him to face everyone who was watching them.

Edward whimpered as Dazai slowly entered him, bringing his hot length inside of him until he was seated flushed against him. Screwing his eyes shut, he breathed heavily, trying to adjust the girth inside of him.

Edward let loose a moan at the sudden upwards thrust and leaned back trying to steady himself.

“Open your eyes, tenshi. Let them see how fucking hot you are riding my dick as though it was always where you belonged,” Dazai purred into his ear, nipping lightly.

Edward whimpered at Dazai’s words, the pleasure of it riding down his spine. Dazai’s arm wrapped around his middle and began to stroking him in time with each thrust, forcing Edward to become lost in the pleasure.

“Open your eyes,” Dazai commanded, angling himself to hit that elusive spot, forcing a shout of pleasure from him. Dazai grinned against his shoulder and began to suck harshly on his flesh, thrusting into that spot in a relentlessly rhythm.

Edward’s eyes flew open as he began to chant Dazai’s name in prayer, the pleasure becoming too much, almost blindingly so.

Edward felt tears prick at his eyes from the onslaught and he let loose a deep moan, pleasure vibrating from it as Dazai bit down on his shoulder and soothed it with his tongue.

“That’s it, _tankamoro_. Take your pleasure,” Dazai breathed into his ear, twisting his hand just so and thrusting upwards to where Edward saw stars.

Edward’s breath shuddered, each stroke and thrust sending him closer to the edge, all conscious thought fleeing him. He turned his head, placing his arm around Dazai’s neck and pulling him into a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue as he rode Dazai’s cock with abandon, meeting each thrust with a grind of his hips. Swallowing each other’s moans, Edward forgot about their audience, not noticing the sharp intake of breath as he bounced on the pulsing cock inside of him.

“Dazai...fuck...I’m gonna,” Edward cried, the pleasure reaching its crescendo while tears leaked down his face from the intensity of it.

“Cum for me, Edward, let them see how beautiful you are,” Dazai commanded, thrusting straight into Edward’s prostate while twisting his wrist just right against his cock.

Edward screamed Dazai’s name as his orgasm overtook him, his body convulsing around Dazai tightly.

Dazai moaned, locking eyes with their main audience and thrusting inside of Edward two more times before coming into Edward’s welcoming heat. Grinning madly, he placed a soft kiss against Edward’s lips as he sagged against Dazai’s chest completely spent, his cum splattered against the floor and Dazai’s hand. Lifting his hand up, Dazai nudged it towards Edward’s lips who obediently licked it clean, not caring about their audience.

“Good boy,” Dazai praised before turning his attention to their audience.

Mustang and Chuuya stood before them, radiating fury. Dazai looked on in amusement, noticing Chuuya’s hand against Mustang’s forearm. Grinning wildly, he stroke Edward’s cheek almost lovingly before slowly pulling out of the delicious blond.

“He’s truly beautiful isn’t he?”

“Seems I missed quite a show,” Mustang said, his voice dripping in venom, cutting across the room and forcing a still silence.

Edward turned his head towards Mustang, staring at the murderous look spread across the man he foolishly cared for. Edward arched an eyebrow and a slight smirk spread across his features at the fury etched in the face of the redhead next to Roy. Snuggling into Dazai’s embrace, he released a content sigh, giving Dazai a cheeky grin as he looked up at him.  

“I’d say you came in at the perfect time, _Roy-kun_. He was so very tasty,” Dazai taunted, kissing Edward’s forehead in silent challenge.

Dazai snapped his fingers and motioned for Havoc to come closer. Startled out of his shocked gaze at what he just witnessed, Havoc approached Dazai-sama with caution.

“Take Edward so that he can get cleaned up. He’s a bit boneless at the moment,” Dazai commanded, silencing Edward’s protests with a look.

Havoc nodded, swallowing thickly and lifting Edward into his arms. Edward glared at Dazai from the treatment, not wanting to admit that he was indeed boneless. He just didn’t like being carried around only in his shirt.

“Havoc,” Roy called darkly, “my office.”

“Yes, sir,” Havoc said meekly before practically running out the room with him.

Dazai grinned wickedly, licking his lips as he took some tissue and wiped himself clean not caring about his audience. Disposing of the tissue, he stuffed himself back into his pants and rebuckled his belt before settling on the leather couch, leaving his shirt unbuttoned as he spread his arms along the back of it.

“Did you enjoy the show, hat rack?” he cooed, completely ignoring the death glares directed at him.

“Fucking waste of bandages, was that fucking necessary?” Chuuya growled, instantly against Dazai with a knife at his throat.

Dazai shrugged, pushing himself closer, letting the blade cut against his flesh. Small dribbles of blood trailed down, soaking his bandages as he whispered into Chuuya’s ear, “Does my petite mafia need to be reminded of his place?”

Chuuya’s eyes flashed in annoyance before placing his dagger back into its sheath against his back. Glaring darkly, Chuuya gripped Dazai’s hair, pulling him until his forehead rested against his own.

“Shitty bastard, you’re forgetting our deal,” he murmured before biting Dazai’s lips harshly.

Dazai grinned and licked the welling blood from his lips before grabbing Chuuya by the waist and placing him in his lap where he belonged.

“Maybe Chibi should remember to whom he belongs to,” Dazai growled into his ear before the click of a gun against his head interrupted his fun.

Arching his eyebrow, Dazai leaned his head back and stared in the dark fathomless gaze of one very pissed off Roy Mustang. Laughing hysterically, Dazai burrowing his face into Chuuya’s neck, nipping at his collar. Wiping tears from his eyes, Dazai gripped the struggling Chuuya tighter, digging his fingers in warning.

“I should kill you,” Mustang gritted out between clench teeth, his finger tightening against the trigger.

“You could. Not the way I envisioned. I much prefer a lover’s suicide with a beautiful woman...or man,” Dazai replied coolly, his gaze calculating. “But you won’t. Because I own you. And any threats against the Port Mafia are paid doubly. Do you want that kind of debt, _Roy-kun_?

Screwing his eyes shut, Mustang clenched his jaw, the temptation beyond his control. He wanted to put a bullet through Dazai’s head in this moment more than he ever. How fucking dare he?

“Would you force your dear Chuuya-sensei to kill his _mon loup_? All because you can’t control yourself,” Dazai said, each word striking like a viper within Mustang’s heart.

Mustang released a shaky breath as Hawkeye and Yao came up beside him wordlessly. He watched emotionlessly as Hawkeye took the gun from him with practice ease, giving him a sharp look.

He had done this. He had committed himself to this den of lions. And he knew the cost of it. Damn Edward for doing this to him.

Yao gripped his arm in a bruising grip, shuffling him forwards until he was on his knees in front of Dazai. He bowed his head in shame, not wanting to see the disappointment in his mentor’s face.

“I apologize Dazai-sama. It won’t happen again,” he said, balling his fist tighter as each word passed his lips.

“Good, next time. I might be forced to kill you, Roy-kun. And wouldn’t that be a shame,” Dazai sing-songed, stroking his hands across Chuuya’s legs. “Get out of my sight, Mustang before I change my mind.”

Mustang nodded before swiftly getting up and stalking towards his office, his fury building with each step. He halted near his office door, Dazai’s voice reaching his ears.

“Careful Mustang, wouldn’t want him running back to me, would you?”

 

* * *

 

Edward paced the room. Havoc had gone to fetch him some pants. He carefully counted each step and wondered just what he was going to do.

Fuck he didn't even know what he was doing right now.

Releasing a long breath, he arched an eyebrow at Havoc’s blushing as he thrusted his leather pants at him. Taking them with a nod, he quickly pulled them over his hips. Digging into his back pocket, he pulled out the true reason he came here. Quickly rereading the papers, he listened to the eerie quiet within the VIP section.

Heading towards the monitors, he stared shocked at Mustang holding a gun to Dazai’s head.

Fuck, he didn’t mean for that to happen.

Running towards the door, he yanked it open to only have Havoc standing in his way.

“Move, Havoc,” he growled, pushing his way around him.

“No, Edward,” Havoc replied coolly, every bit the bodyguard in this moment.

Scowling, Edward eyed the blond man in front him, assessing the situation.

“Roy—”

“He doesn't need your help, Edward. He’s not stupid. He knows the stakes. Do you?” Havoc started, shoving Edward back into the room. “Stay here like a _good-boy_ , Edward.”

Edward flinched as the door slammed in his face.

Fuck. He hadn’t thought. He just...Damnit.

Sighing heavily, he ran his fingers through his hair again and fiddle with the papers in his hand.

He knew he had fucked up, but he needed to put that on the back burner. Rubbing a hand down his face, he stared at the door, losing himself to his thoughts.

He sucked in a breath when the door creaked open and he stared back into Roy's dark eyes.

"Mustang," he greeted.

"Edward," Mustang said coolly, his eyes raking over the love bites along Edward’s neck.

Letting his eyes linger on the darkening spots, Mustang shook his head before walking over to his desk and pulling out two glasses. He unscrewed the lid to one of the scotch bottles and poured a liberal amount.

"This isn't a social call, Mustang," Edward gritted out.

"Oh? Could’ve fooled me with that display, _De-tect-tive_."

Edward winced, rubbing his hand against his neck. Glancing upwards, he sighed and perched himself against Mustang’s desk.

“I came here to talk to you. What happened out there doesn’t concern you, Mustang. We are not together.”  

“Not. My. Concern. Really, Edward? That's the game you’re playing now. Look at me,” Mustang commanded, his voice dark and dangerous, as he stalked towards Edward.

Edward eyes widened as he took in Mustang’s disheveled appearance. Reaching upwards, he traced the outline of stitches along Mustang’s cheek, noting the other signs of bruising. Leaning backwards, he cautiously unbuttoned Mustang’s shirt and inhaled sharply at the damage against his skin.

“Why?” Edward whispered, tracing the damaged skin peeking out of bandages.

“Punishment, Edward. Everything comes for a price,” Mustang stated, bracing his arms against the desk. “When will you learn this is not a game?”

Swallowing thickly, Edward threw the papers on the desk and stared into Mustang’s eyes, searching.

"I need to know why?"

“You know why, Edward. You always have. You. Are. Mine,” Roy murmured, before claiming Edward’s lips with his own. Gently, he prodded against Edward’s lips, asking permission to claim what is his.

Edward whimpered, clutching Roy’s shirt and opening up for him. He moaned, sucking lightly on Mustang’s tongue. He felt like Mustang was branding him, down to his very soul. Breaking the kiss, Edward took a deep breath and rested his head against Roy’s shoulder.

“Roy,” he rasped, trying to marshall his thoughts through his own confusion. “I need to know why those papers say what they do. It’s important.”

Roy hummed an noncommittal response and picked up the papers, scanning the information with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Ed?" he questioned, holding up the papers. "You want to know why the drugs are basically a candy jumper versus the hard stuff?"

Edward nodded and bit his lip, trying not to take in how good Mustang really looked.

"I can't tell you that, Edward. Not without knowing where we stand," Roy drawled, throwing the papers back on the desk and titling his chin up.

Looming over Edward, he devoured him, pouring all of his frustrations and love into the kiss. He stole Edward’s breath way, marking his territory unrelenting in his onslaught. Winding a hand into Edward’s golden locks, Mustang bit his tesoro's lips, thrusting his tongue into Edward’s hot cavern.

Edward moaned, dark and low, digging his fingers into the nape of Roy’s neck. He tilted his head to the side, allowing the older man more access. He gasped, pleasure was shooting down his spine from the way Roy was grinding into him while sucking wetly on his neck.  

“Fuck,” he gritted out while Roy yanked his hair back forcefully.

Edward’s eyes fluttered closed, the sensation was almost too much. Mustang continued his assault against his neck, forcing him backwards onto the desk. The cold press of wood against his back combined with a harsh bite to his shoulder made him moan wantonly.

Opening his eyes, he’s breath hitched at the dark possessive gaze of the man above him. Edward grabbed at Mustang’s shirt, pulling him down and capturing his lips in a searing kiss, committing the heady taste of him to memory. Fumbling with Mustang’s shirt buttons, Edward made an impatient noise before tearing the material and exposing the delicious skin to his perusal. Licking his lips, he began to worship Roy’s tattoo, earning him a chuckle mixed with a low groan.

Smiling wickedly, Edward bit down over Roy’s heart, marking him. He let out a whoosh of air as he was thrown backwards and divested of his pants before he could blink. Edward arched upwards and moaned, throwing his head back, while Roy sucked his cock into his mouth in one motion.

_Fuck._

He felt the slippery slide of fingers probing at his entrance and he trembled from anticipation. Edward shut his eyes as Mustang thrusted two fingers into his entrance, scissoring and stretching him. He dug his fingernails into Mustang’s shoulder, unable to keep steady while his lover continued to torture him by sucking the tip of his cock while thrusting into him with deadly accuracy. Edward lost himself to the sensations, each devious slide of Mustang’s fingers against his prostate reducing him to a babbling mess.

“Please, Roy. Fuck,” Edward whimpered, feeling tears well in his eyes from the overstimulation.

Roy slowly slid his mouth off of Edward’s cock and gave him a wicked smile. He carefully positioned himself at Edward’s entrance, thrusting in and kissing him senseless at the same time. He set up a brutal pace, throwing Edward’s legs over his shoulders and angling himself to hit his prostate with each slide of his cock.

“Fuck, Yes! Yes...Right there,” Edward babbled, clutching to Mustang for dear life before kissing him messily. He arched against Mustang, feeling his orgsasm rising. He felt Roy murmuring sweet nothings into his ear edging him closer and closer. Edward screwed his eyes closed as long fingers gripped his cock and began to pump him in time with each thrust.

Roy’s dark voice washed over him, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine at the simple command, “Cum for me, tesoro”.

Edward came with a cry of Mustang’s name on his lips, his vision whiting out as stars bursted behind his eyelids, making him boneless against the cresting waves of pleasures flowing through his body.

 

* * *

 

“Yes, it seems that we will need to push the final phase up,” a sultry voice replied evenly into the receiver. Mauve eyes roamed the camera feed in front of her, flicking between each square box. The boxes showing the whereabouts of certain key figures. The clicking of the mouse echoed around the room as she zoomed  in on three boxes. Their profiles highlighted the screen.

“Yes, they will have to be dealt with. Make sure you get it done quietly. Make it good,” she ordered before setting the phone down with a click. Pushing back black inky hair from her shoulders, she let her gaze roam the faces that were unaware of her scuinity.

 

* * *

 

Edward snuggled into the warmth surrounding him, releasing a small sigh. He blearily opened his eyes and gave a small start of surprise. The events prior rushed back to him. He tensed, flexing his shoulders slightly before trying to sit up.

A warm press of a hand paused his progress and he glanced up through lowered eyes. Mustang was staring at him with a small smile and a look in his eyes that Edward would dare not name.

It was too risky.

Swallowing thickly, he shook off the hand and pressed his palms against Roy’s chest, sitting up completely. Ignoring the twitching cock underneath him, Edward carded his fingers through his hair and stared grimly down at the man he was entangled with.

Taking a deep breath, Edward opened his mouth and blinked at the finger pressed against his lips. Raising an eyebrow, Edward held back the urge to bite it.

“Edward,” Roy started, shuffling underneath him before cupping his cheek tenderly.  

Roy let his hand drop away and carefully slid out from underneath the enticing blond. He walked across the room, not caring about his nakedness and poured himself a drink. Taking a quick gulp, he began pacing back and forth.

“This is over. We’re done.”

Edward crossed his arms, giving Mustang a harsh glare that could freeze the flames of hell.

“Done? So, what, you fucked me one more time. Just for the hell of it. Goodbye sex? A little bit of pleasure before business, Mustang,” Edward barked, each word dripping in cold fury.

“That was a mistake, a miscalculation that is bad for business. It’s not personal, Edward,” Mustang replied evenly, arching his eyebrow as the smaller man stalked towards him. Mustang could feel the anger radiating off of him.

“Che cazzo dici? Bad for business? You weren’t saying that while you fucked me. More like ‘don’t want me to fuck up your _oh so_ great plans’. Fuck you, Mustang. Stop being such a fucking coward,” Edward bellowed, pulling his pants over his legs. His entire body shook with unbridle fury. “Or is it because I fucked Dazai?”

Grabbing his shirt, he shrugged it back on, leaving the buttons undone as he pulled his boots back over his feet. Striding over to the damn arrogant bastard, Edward glared up at him.

“You don’t get to decide this shit. Not anymore you bastard. I’m not a fuckin’ toy. So, stop treating me like one. I’m not gonna be another damn notch in your fuckin’ bedpost, you asshole. You wanted to know where I stand?” Edward reached up with his hand, noting the way Roy flinched before grasping the bastard’s neck and pulling him down until his lips were flushed against his own.

He poured all of his frustrations and feelings he didn’t want to name as he explored the older man’s mouth. Standing on his tiptoes, he bit down on Mustang’s lips, sucking on the welling blood lightly before releasing the man with enough force to send him reeling backwards.

Huffing loudly, Edward grasped the door handle and looked back over his shoulder. “Fuck you asshole. Get your shit together,” Edward said darkly, slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Edward sighed for the millionth time in the last five minutes. Alphonse  lifted an eyebrow at his brother's despondency and elbowed him.

"Ed, what's going on?" Alphonse questioned, staring at his older brother.

"Al, this shit is so damn complicated and I know Hughes had figured it out. I just gotta work it out," Edward said, running his hand through his hair.

"That's not what this is about brother," Alphonse fired back. "This is about Roy and the fact you fell for him.”

"Al," Edward warned, standing up. He walked over to the window and stared out at the snow covering the ground.

Alphonse sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Eyeing his brother’s blank expression as he watched the snow fall spoke volumes to Alphonse.

Something happened. Something big.

“Ed, tell me what happened?” Alphonse asked softly, ignoring the vibrating of his phone. He watched as his older brother rotated his shoulder before rubbing his neck. Al raised an eyebrow, noting the mark peeking out of the collar of Edward’s shirt.

_Hmmm. Interesting._

“You went to see him, didn’t you?”

Edward turned back to him and looked at him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, but it died on his lips at his brother’s glare. Letting his hand fall to his side, Edward sighed heavily before trudging over to his brother.

“It’s complicated, Al,” Edward whispered, throwing his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

“So, uncomplicated it, brother,” Alphonse said quietly and waited. He didn’t have to wait long before Edward began to fill him in on the current situation. Alphonse frowned as he listened to the far fetched tale. His mind whirled with the implications as it filed away the information to process later.

Alphonse took a small sip of his drink when Edward mumbled into his cup. Lifting his gaze up sharply, he placed the small cup down and faced his brother.

“What was that, brother?”

“I don’t know what to do, Al. Mustang made it clear that he wants to end whatever the hell this is. That he had miscalculated and I was a mistake,” Edward answered, hunching his shoulders and folding his body in half, hugging his knees to his chest.

Alphonse’s gaze sharpened at how impossibly small his brother seemed to be at this moment. Maybe he should pay the dear King of the Underworld a visit himself for hurting his brother...

Sighing, Alphonse stood up and wrapped his brother in a hug, lending him his strength. He murmured his reassurances into his brother’s ear, stroking his head tenderly as the events of the last few weeks took their toll on him.

Yes, he would pay Mustang a visit.

No one hurt his brother.

No one.

 

* * *

 

“I see,” Roy answered into the burner phone cradled into his palm.

He lifted his eyes and locked eyes with Riza’s. He motioned her forwards and watched her sit on the edge of the chair in front of the desk. Frowning thinly, he narrowed his eyes and glanced at the papers in front of him that she had slid across the table.

With a slight nod, he thumbed through the papers, listening intently to the speaker through the phone. It seemed things were moving.

“Gather the information and report at 2200 tonight.”

Clicking the phone closed, he dropped it on the desk with a clatter and steepled his fingers together in front of his face. He stared blankly at the documents in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the sound of his Hawk’s voice.

“Sir?”

“Timetable has moved up. Dazai-sama should be informed. It’s gonna get messy,” he explained, his voice heavy with the implications.

“And Edward, sir?”

“Taken care of. Jesters will be reporting tonight. The VIP section is off limits. No one without permission is allowed in,” he commanded before the door to his office broke open with a slam.

In the doorway stood a tall blond man with familiar golden eyes with a fumbling Havoc trailing behind him.

“S’rry Boss, but I couldn’t...I mean,” Havoc sputtered, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Mustang narrowed his eyes as the man strode into his office without a care in the world.

He seemed far too relaxed...

Mustang locked his gaze with the unknown intruder’s and felt a ball of dread form in the pit of his stomach.

“Havoc, Riza, dismissed,” he barked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sir?” Riza asked, her hand resting on the butt of her gun.

“It’s ok. He’s a friend,” Roy stated calmly and waited for the door to click close. Sitting backwards in his chair, he folded his hands and gave a dashing smile.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Elric?”

“Good, you know who I am. That should make kicking your sorry pistachio easier,” Alphonse replied sweetly, his eyes darkening with each word.

Inhaling sharply, Mustang drummed his fingers against the desk and briefly wondered how his life had become such a cluster fuck. “I take it he informed you.”

“He did. And I have to say you’re one waffle cone swirl moron. You can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

Mustang pressed together his lips thinly and opened his mouth to speak when a hand snaked out and grabbed his shirt. Onyx eyes met golden ones, fury dancing behind them.

“Don’t even start to spout that bullshit you gave him, Mustang,” Alphonse warned before releasing him.

Mustang reeled back from the force and sighed heavily. “Mr. Elric—”

“Alphonse.”

“Alphonse, it’s complicated,” Mustang began, not breaking eye contact with the younger man.

“It’s really not. He loves your dumbass. Willing to put his peanut butter career on the fucking line. And you keep reeling him in and pushing him away. Make up your damn mind, Mustang,” Alphonse raged, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I—” Mustang started, but closed his mouth.

He couldn’t reply to that. This entire mess was his fault. He should’ve stop it before it got to this point.

His eyes widened slightly as Alphonse leaned over him, placing his palms flat against the desk.

“Fucking fix this mess, Mustang. Or I will make sure you regret it,” Al warned, each word sounding more like a promise.

Mustang repressed a shudder as Alphonse strode out, the door slamming close behind him. That man was just as terrifying as Dazai. Holding his head in between his hands, Roy groaned.

_Porca vacca!_

* * *

 

Pride giggled, adjusting his sights.

Father had giving him a new toy. A shining one. He couldn’t wait to play with it.

Peering through the scope, Pride watched his target leave and tightened his finger around the trigger.

“Boom,” he cried gleefully, clicking his tongue in mock fire before laughing hysterically.

 

* * *

 

“Sir?” Riza called, opening the door slowly and sighing at the slumped figure over the desk.

“What is it, Riza?” Roy mumbled into the wood before straighten up and glancing down at his watch.

“You need to see this,” she replied and waited at the door.

Roy gracefully got up and stretch his back until it popped. He walked up to his right hand woman and followed her out.

“Is everything ready for tonight?”

“Of course, sir. Everything is in place. And everyone has been called,” she replied evenly, raising her eyebrow at him.

Mustang blinked against the blinding sun when they exited the building. Walking across the street, Mustang lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Riza,” he started, but snapped his mouth shut when he was met with a sharp glare.

He followed her into the building across the street and into the elevator. He watched her curiously, his brow furrowing in confusion. The elevator dinged and Roy followed her out. He swore as he spotted the problem. Getting down on his knees, he took the gloves dangling in front of his face. Placing them on, he peered into the scope and took in the trajectory. It was a perfect shot into the front of the building.

Fuck.

“Looks like they are getting sloppy trying to tie up loose ends.” he observed, standing up and dusting his pants off. “Tighten security and check every rooftop. Take no risks. And give this to the jester and have them run it. It’s time to even the playing field.”

“Yes, sir,” reached his ears as he walked back into the elevator.

Just what was the play here?

 

* * *

 

Edward nibbled on the edge of his pen, his eyes darting over the markings. Scribbling furiously, he bobbed his head back and forth, muttering under his breath. His breath quickened as realization dawned on him. He turned each page quickly and swore under his breath.

Shakily, he read over his notes, comparing them page by page. His eyes searched the pages and he swallowed thickly, forcing the bile back down his throat. Carefully, he placed the blue journal down on the small table and read his notes again.

It just couldn’t be right. This ...This can’t _be._

Closing his eyes, he felt tears stream down his face and he hiccuped back a sob.

It just _can’t._

Feeling the contents of his stomach roll, he darted up and rushed to nearest sink. Retching, Edward’s body trembled with each heave of his stomach. Gasping for breath, Edward wiped his mouth clean using a nearby towel and took small sips from his water bottle. Slowly, he walked back to the table and read it again.

Everything made sense. Everything. He had found the golden key.

The shrill noise of his phone ringing brought him back to reality. Fumbling for it underneath a stack of papers, Edward grasped it and swiped the answer button. Putting it up to his ear, he gruffy answered, “Hello?”

“Ed? I’ve got something to tell you. It’s important.”

“Al? Where the hell are you? You’re cutting out.”

“That’s not important. Hey, what are you doing here?”

“ _Al?_ What’s going on?”

“No. Stay away from me.” Al’s frightened voice carried over, chilling Edward to the bone.

“AL? ALPHONSE?!” Edward shouted into the phone before the line went dead. Edward stared at his phone with a shocked expression and dread coiling in his gut.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to both of my beta readers: [hellosweetie17](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosweetie17/pseuds/hellosweetie17) and [catiebrie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CatieBrie/pseuds/CatieBrie).  
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